


Seven Days

by SandyRoses



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: All ships other than jihancheol are vv minor, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate happy ending, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a sad ending, Established Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Grief/Mourning, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, I suffer so you'll suffer with me, Joshua suffers a lot, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Rating May Change, Roses, Sick Character, Symbolism, Terminal Illnesses, This whole thing is just angst I'm sorry, Thyme, Unrequited Love, Y'all I made myself cry with this one, don't get your hopes up, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyRoses/pseuds/SandyRoses
Summary: Leaning on the counter on shaky legs, he opened his hand, staring down at the object in his palm that had caused him so much annoyance throughout the day.His eyes widened dramatically as he took in the sight. Sitting innocently on his hand sat a single red rose petal, a little damp with his spit but otherwise perfect. His legs collapsed under him, and he sank to the floor, stunned.Joshua knew, at that moment, that he had only seven days to live.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 389
Kudos: 523





	1. Day 0: First Petal

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally here  
> prepare your tissues
> 
> TW for depictions of throwing up flowers, so if that's not your jam, read smth fluffy like Someone To Hold

Joshua knew something was off. The tickle in his lungs hadn’t gone away all day no matter how many times he discreetly tried to clear his throat. His chest had started to ache a little too, a very faint, dull sort of throb where his heart was. For a while, he was worried he was coming down with some sort of heart problem (which seemed strange, considering how well he took care of himself for being a high school student), but he tried to ignore it in favor of getting through the day. 

“Joshuji~!” A breathy, pleasant voice floated through his thoughts, and instantly he smiled, recognizing the voice as one of his favorite people. He turned to see Yoon Jeonghan bouncing over to him, recently-cut and -dyed hair flouncing around his ears, shiny blond and almost white. He felt his heart throb for entirely different reasons at the bright smile on Jeonghan’s face, one of the prettiest sights in the world, in his opinion. Whenever he heard the older boy’s voice, whenever he saw him smile, whenever Jeonghan was concerned in general, he was happy.

Because for as long as he’d known him, he’d had a disgustingly fat crush the size of an elephant on Jeonghan. How could he not? Jeonghan, in his mind, was perfect, kind and beautiful but also sassy in the funniest ways.

If he leaned a little to the side, he could see another boy trailing behind the angelic Jeonghan, a soft, amused little smile on his face: Choi Seungcheol, the other half of Joshua’s heart. If he was wrecked for Jeonghan, he was absolutely and utterly weak for Seungcheol and his perfect, cherry-red lips and smiley eyes that crinkled up when he flashed one of his bright gummy grins.

The problem was, the other two were dating each other. Two years into their relationship, they’d made quite a name for themselves in the school as one of the most ideal (and bold) couples. They bickered and argued like an old married couple, but everyone could see how completely infatuated with each other they were. 

And Joshua was happy for them, he really was. He loved seeing them love each other, loved seeing them happy. He was there to help them be happy. If they were sad, then he’d done his job wrong. 

But he couldn’t fight the tiny pang of hurt and want that squeezed his heart whenever he saw them kiss, whenever they looked at each other with affectionate eyes meant only for each other, whenever he saw them holding hands in the hallway and talking quietly. Whenever he saw Seungcheol pick Jeonghan up and twirl him around playfully, he wanted to be the one resting against Seungcheol’s broad chest, be the one in his arms. Whenever he saw Jeonghan leaning in to whisper a secret into Seungcheol’s ear, he wanted to be the one listening, wanted to feel Jeonghan’s soft lips on his skin. 

He sort of hated himself for wanting that, since they were a couple and he didn’t want to ruin their dynamic by pushing himself on them, but still, at the end of the day, he wanted to be the one to hold their hands and give them kisses and shower them with his love.

So, to the best of his ability, he ignored his growing feelings of affection. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were his best friends. If he couldn’t love them the way he wanted to, he’d at least make sure they stayed his friends. That much, he would be happy with. That was what he told himself.

He frowned a little when the pain in his chest suddenly grew into a sharp point, and the itch in his throat made him cough again.

“Shua? You ok?” He pulled another smile onto his face when he heard Jeonghan’s worried voice and felt a dainty hand on his back. 

“Yeah, I think I might just be coming down with something. Don’t worry about it, Hannie, I’ll be fine,” he said cheerfully, because Jeonghan never failed to make his day better. 

“Don’t get sick, alright? I’ll miss you if you don’t show up at school,” Seungcheol joked, and Joshua smiled wider. The older’s concern made him feel oddly fluttery and he shoved it down. Yes, he liked them, but he wasn’t a 14 year-old anymore!

“I’ll be fine,” he said again, waving a hand at Seungcheol’s furrowed brow. “ _Relax_ ,” he added with a roll of his eyes as Jeonghan opened his mouth, smirking a little. His smirk grew when Jeonghan fell silent with a huff, puffing out his cheeks in the adorable way Joshua had so quickly grown to love.

“Fine, I won’t badger you. But the moment you start feeling sick tell me and I’ll come and take care of you. I’m not letting my best friend be alone while sick,” he said stubbornly, and Joshua did his very best not to wince.

“Oi, what about me?” Seungcheol teased. Jeonghan huffed again.

“You’re my _boyfriend_ , you don’t count. Besides, Joshuji has always been my best friend. Since we were tiny, right?” He looked back at Joshua, a smile on his face. Joshua nodded, because it was true. They’d been close ever since they could walk and talk. And despite his want to be so much _more_ than just “best friends”, he wasn’t about to say anything against it.

“That’s true. You two were always so close. I always thought I’d never have a chance,” Seungcheol chuckled. Jeonghan whacked his arm lightly. “What? When I first saw you, you were hanging out with him and you had an arm around his waist and you were whispering something into his ear and I thought you two were dating or something-”

Joshua stood up very abruptly as the bell rang, signaling the end of the passing period they’d been in. Getting up from the chair he’d been sitting in, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, fighting down the hurt in his chest, both physical and emotional.

“I gotta get to class early. See you guys around!” He was so glad his voice didn’t sound too strained, but in his haste, he missed the confused, slightly concerned looks Jeonghan and Seungcheol sent each other.

* * *

He managed to get through the rest of the day with only a couple extra sips of water and a lot of badly-concealed coughing. His friends kept sending him looks throughout his classes, but he always waved them down, sending them a reassuring smile even as his eyes watered while trying to hold back the awful sensation crawling up his throat.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, he quickly went to the spot where he waited for Jeonghan and Seungcheol and Jihoon, another one of his friends, on account of all living in vaguely the same direction.

As usual, the couple walked out hand in hand, cooing at each other, Jihoon trailing behind looking exasperated. The short boy hurried over to Joshua, exchanging a tired look between them. They waiting for Jeonghan and Seungcheol to stop making googly eyes at each other, and when they didn’t, Jihoon rolled his eyes and simply started walking away, knowing the other three would follow. Indeed, after a second of hesitation, Joshua followed, and after about a minute in which neither Jeonghan nor Seungcheol noticed them walking away, Jihoon smirked as he heard running footsteps pound up to them.

“Wow, thanks for waiting,” Jeonghan pouted. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

“You were taking too long. You can look at Seungcheol any time you want, but _some_ of us actually have things to do.”

“Meanie,” Jeonghan muttered, instead throwing an arm over Joshua’s shoulders. The younger simply let it happen, tucking himself to the blond’s side as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And it sort of was; they walked like that a lot.

“Come on, I can’t have my best friend be stealing my boyfriend,” Seungcheol snorted, walking up on Joshua’s other side and winding an arm around his waist. Jeonghan threw the older a judgemental look, but Seungcheol only stuck his tongue out childishly. Joshua laughed softly and they smiled at him.

“So how’s your cough, Shua? Feeling better?” Jeonghan’s concerned voice seemed to summon another wave of tickling in his throat, but he nodded, not speaking. If he did he’d probably try to hack up one of his lungs again.

“That’s good. I don’t want you to get sick. Not that I don’t want to take care of you but- well you know what I mean.”

“Of course, Hannie,” Joshua hummed, able to hold his voice steady for a couple seconds.

“If it gets worse, tell us, alright?” Seungcheol reminded, sounding every bit like the older brother everyone thought of him as. Joshua’s heart twinged again, because Seungcheol probably only saw him as that: a brother, someone younger to dote on and take care of but not in a romantic way. That was reserved for Jeonghan, who absolutely thrived on being pampered. Joshua, on the other hand, was less needy, and he thought Seungcheol would probably tire of him quickly.

“I will, don’t worry,” he nodded. For the moment, he was content to soak up the comfort from them being on either side of him, even if it was meant to be a purely platonic, friendly gesture. He wanted it to be more than that, but he wouldn’t allow himself to think of it any other way. They had each other and Joshua was more like a little follower of theirs, for them to love but only as one would love their family or a small puppy. But he was ok with that. He told himself he was ok with that. He told himself he had to be ok with that.

When they got to Joshua’s apartment, Jeonghan hugged him briefly, giving him a wide smile before letting go.

“See you tomorrow Shua! Don’t you dare get sick, alright?”

“Alright, alright, I won’t, I promise,” he laughed, but it quickly turned into a small cough. “Probably, anyway.”

“I second Hannie. I won’t be able to deal with him without you there,” Seungcheol added with a smirk, making Jeonghan slap his arm and let out an offended noise.

“Yeah, whatever. Shoo, get off my doorstep,” he snorted, making waving motions with his hands. The couple waved and Jihoon nodded to him, immersed in something on his phone, and they left quickly, leaving Joshua feeling strangely cold without the older two by his sides.

When he walked into his apartment and locked the door behind him, the first thing he did was cough loudly, feeling his eyes sting as his throat tried to rid itself of the uncomfortable tingle lodged there. His lungs hurt a little and again, he was worried he might have been coming down something serious, but the thought was quickly knocked from his head when the pain in his throat spiked, forcing ragged, awful coughs from him. Eyes streaming, he made a beeline for the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it the best he could while trying not to cough it all back up. He slammed the glass back onto the counter a little harder then he’d intended, breathing heavily, water dripping down his chin.

His brief respite lasted only a little while, before the awful sensation in his throat returned and he was back to filling the small room with the sound of him coughing. It felt like something small and soft was lodged in his throat, blocking his airways and making it hard to breathe. He felt lightheaded and it hurt, hurt to cough, hurt to breathe, hurt to wheeze in ineffectual puffs of air. His chest hurt, his eyes hurt, everything just kind of ached.

Covering his mouth with his hand, he doubled over, using his other hand to hold onto the counter so as not to fall over. He could feel whatever was in his throat shifting, and with a final, wet sort of hacking noise, he spat something out into his hand, shuddering and taking deep lungfuls of precious oxygen. The tickling in his throat immediately faded into a raw feeling, and the ache in his chest subsided mercifully.

Leaning on the counter on shaky legs, he opened his hand, staring down at the object in his palm that had caused him so much annoyance throughout the day.

His eyes widened dramatically as he took in the sight. Sitting innocently on his hand sat a single red rose petal, a little damp with his spit but otherwise perfect. His legs collapsed under him, and he sank to the floor, stunned.

Joshua knew, at that moment, that he had only seven days to live.


	2. Day 1: Roses Are Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back to deliver more pain and suffering

The next morning, before he did anything, before he even got out of his bed, he yanked his laptop onto his lap and pulled up a new tab. “Hanahaki disease”, he typed into the search bar, fingers shaking slightly as he did so. He’d heard of the disease before, it wasn’t too rare, but he never thought he’d be one of the people to contract it. He’d thought that Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s platonic affection would keep him safe. 

He was wrong, it seemed. He scrolled through endless cites, all warning him of the dangers of hanahaki and what symptoms he would get, and most importantly, how he only had seven days to live. Seven days was all it would take for the flowers sprouting in his lungs to take his life and turn him into a grotesquely beautiful corpse. 

Of course, the usual options were there: either fall out of love with the person or persons one was in love with, get them to love you back, get a surgery to remove the flowers but take away the ability to love in the process, or simply let the flowers overtake your body (i.e. die).

Joshua knew instantly that the third option was a no-go. He wouldn’t lose his love for Jeonghan and Seungcheol and people in general if it killed him (which it most likely would). Losing that would be worse than death, in his opinion. 

But the other three choices… He knew for sure that he wouldn’t try to get Jeonghan and Seungcheol to love him. Not more than they already did, anyway. Because he knew they loved him, just not...that way. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall out of love with them.

So he would just...die? The more he thought about it, the more he resigned himself to it. If he couldn’t love Jeonghan and Seungcheol and they wouldn’t love him, then he would willingly give himself up to continue loving them from afar. It was just something he did. And of course, he wouldn’t tell them. He wouldn't tell anyone. It was too risky.

Shutting his laptop, he sighed, coughing a couple times into his elbow before getting off of his bed and getting ready for school. He choked up a couple more petals along the way, all red rose petals. He thought they might symbolize Jeonghan, with his seductive beauty and timeless elegance. It was ironic, when he thought about the thorns that would slowly squeeze the life from his heart. But if it was Jeonghan, he didn’t mind. If it was Jeonghan or Seungcheol he would never mind. 

He walked to school with Jihoon as he always did, keeping the conversation light and casual. Their discussion was ever shorter than usual, as the shorter boy’s eyes were glued to his phone. Unable to resist, Joshua peeked over his shoulder down at his screen, curious as to what his smaller friend was so immersed in. He caught sight of a text conversation before Jihoon suddenly moved away with a huff, swatting at him.

“Eyes to yourself,” he grumbled, and Joshua chuckled roughly, throat still a little torn up from spitting out three petals that morning. 

“Come on, Ji, what’s got all your attention? Find someone to chat with~?” he teased, eager to find out.

“None of your business,” Jihoon said gruffly, shooting him one of his classic “it’s-too-early-in-the-morning-for-your-bullshit” glares and shoving his phone into his pocket. Joshua just smiled serenely, too used to the frown to be too bothered by it.

When they arrived at school, they found the rest of their friends sitting in the cafeteria, all in one large group as usual. 

Perched in Seungcheol’s lap was Jeonghan, whispering something into his ear that the older was smiling at. Next to them were Jun and Minghao, also a couple, currently very invested in something on Minghao’s phone. Over their shoulders, Chan, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung watched, giggling gleefully. A little off to the side, Hansol was chatting with Mingyu and Seokmin, while Wonwoo read a book in silence. Joshua smiled at the familiar sight, reassuring if nothing else. 

The first person to notice them was Soonyoung, who looked up from Minghao’s phone and absolutely _beamed_ , bouncing over to them excitedly. 

“Morning Hoonie! And Joshua,” he added, almost as an afterthought. Joshua just laughed. It was no secret Soonyoung had the hots of the shortest friend of their group, but Jihoon being Jihoon, he didn’t acknowledge it at all. He simply nodded, brushing past Soonyoung to sit down next to Wonwoo. Not looking at all crestfallen, Soonyoung followed, and Joshua walked over to Mingyu and Hansol, smiling a greeting and fighting down the itch in his throat that had appeared again since he had seen the oldest pair whispering to each other.

“Hey, Josh, you finished the science homework, right? Can you give me some help? I’m kinda...completely stuck,” Hansol asked bashfully, giving him one of his classic shy but charming smiles, one of the ones he used whenever he was trying to get someone to do something for him. Being near-incapable of saying no to anyone, especially his friends, he sighed and nodded. He liked to help people anyway. Pulling out his notebook, he set about showing the younger what to do, and by the time the bell rang for classes to begin Hansol was smiling brightly, giving the older a brief side-hug in thanks before he dashed off.

“You’re too nice,” Wonwoo said as they walked to their first class together.

“I wasn’t about to say no, and besides, he could use the help!” Joshua protested, frowning at the younger’s slightly judgemental look.

“Joking, Joshua, calm down. You’re just the right amount of nice to balance out, say, Jihoon.” He shot a look at the black-haired boy, who glared at him before branching down a different hallway.

“Wow, that’s a real compliment,” Joshua sighed dryly. Wonwoo flashed him a slightly amused smile. Before he could continue to snip, a cough was torn suddenly from his throat, forcing him to stop and close his eyes to prevent tears from welling up.

“Joshua? You ok? I heard you had a cough; you wanna go to the nurse?”

“It’s- it’s fine,” he managed to grind out, taking in air with an effort. He couldn’t cough any of those damned petals up at school, especially not around his friends, especially not around Wonwoo or Jihoon, who were too smart for him to feel completely safe around. “Just- need a cough drop or something.” He smiled to reassure the younger’s concerned look, but it didn’t work very well.

“Drink enough, ok? Go to a doctor if it gets bad,” Wonwoo hummed, and Joshua nodded.

“I got it, I got it. Jeonghan and Seungcheol badger me to take care of myself enough without you adding to it.”

“I always wonder why they’re so clingy with you. I almost feel kinda bad,” Wonwoo chuckled, patting his shoulder, not noticing the way Joshua’s smile fell ever-so-slightly.

* * *

Between classes, he hacks up more petals in the privacy of the bathrooms, desperately hoping no one will hear him. When he leaves, there’s always rose petals stuffed into his pockets, covering him with the mild, pleasing scent. During lunch, it’s just his luck that Jeonghan notices that.

“Are you wearing perfume, Shua? Smells nice,” Jeonghan hummed, leaning closer to him and breathing deeply. Panicking slightly, Joshua leaned away, pulling a smile onto his face. The fact that Jeonghan noticed only enforced the connection between him and the roses growing in his lungs. 

“N-no, it’s not perfume, I don’t wear perfume. It’s probably my hand lotion.”

“What’cha need hand lotion for? You weren’t wearing it earlier,” Minghao teased, leaning forward on his hands with a sort of lecherous smirk.

“I’m going to give you five seconds to retract your statement,” Joshua said, a kind smile on his face, hiding threatening eyes. “Unlike you, I’m above doing nasty things between classes. You two on the other hand...not so sure.” He turned his gaze very pointedly to Jun and Minghao, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sick burn,” Hansol laughed. Seungkwan slapped him.

“Please never say that again-”

“Sick- OW! Alright, alright, stop hitting me-!” Joshua snickered quietly as Hansol hid behind Wonwoo, using him as a shield. The older wrapped an arm around him protectively, huffing at Seungkwan, who flicked Hansol’s cheek one last time before sitting back, looking both annoyed and pleased with himself. 

“If your hands are dry in the winter I have a really nice lotion you can borrow,” Seungcheol piped up, tone amiable. Jeonghan’s face lit up.

“Yes, yes, you should try it! It makes his hands so soft, I swear-” He grabbed one of the older’s hands enthusiastically, running his thumbs over the other’s palms. He held Seungcheol’s hand out to Joshua, smiling brightly. The oldest simply rolled his eyes, resigning himself to his boyfriend’s antics.

Hesitantly, Joshua reached out to run a finger down Seungcheol’s palm, smiling at its soft, warm feel under his fingertip. He hummed and nodded, pulling his hand back quickly as his chest tightened painfully. 

“Aren’t they soft? He’s so nice to hold hands with,” Jeonghan cooed, lacing his fingers with Seungcheol’s.

“Must be nice for other things too,” Jun muttered, and Minghao grinned at him. Jeonghan shot him a dangerous smile, and Jun looked away, still smirking a little. But their eyes turned curious as Joshua stood, grabbing his bag.

“I’m gonna go get some water. I think my cough is getting worse,” he said apologetically, giving them the best smile he could while his lungs constricted and more petals climbed his throat.

“Take some medicine, ok? Don’t get sick,” Jeonghan said, a concerned pout on his face. Joshua laughed, and the tail end of his chuckle turned into another raspy wheeze.

“Duly noted,” he muttered, speed walking away from them. Once he couldn’t see the oldest couple, the painful ache in his chest subsided a little, but the more he thought about them the more it hurt again. 

For what must have been the fifth time that day, he locked himself into the nearest bathroom and choked up another handful of petals. Unable to look at them, he flushed them down the toilet, feeling disgusted with himself. What kind of person was he, to love two people at the same time? Two people who were 1) his best friends and 2) in a relationship, no less! The thought only made the roots in his lungs tighten, forcing another weak cough out of him. 

A little lightheaded, he stood back up from where he had been leaning against the door, trudging to his next class with a heavy feeling in his chest and a lingering tickle in the back of his throat.

* * *

He had to leave his last class early because holding back the petals became unbearable, forcing him to get up and weakly ask to leave. Mingyu, in his last class with him, gave him a very concerned side-eye, but he ignored it.

He barely managed to make it down the hallway before he pulled himself into the first empty room he could find (a surprisingly open classroom), and bent over one of the desks, arms too weak to hold himself up. Something hurt worse, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The petals wouldn’t come out no matter how hard he coughed, until he thought he tasted something metallic in the back of his mouth. 

Then, finally, with an awful sound like an animal being strangled, he threw up a large clump of petals, the soft objects fluttering to the floor and resting there peacefully, almost mocking him with their beauty. Breathing heavily, he finally allowed himself a quiet, drawn-out whine, tears falling from his eyes and adding to the mess on the floor. He picked up one of the petals, smoothing it between his fingers, glaring at it and hating it with all his being.

But he could never hate Jeonghan or Seungcheol, even though they were the reason he had a garden inside his lungs, slowly spreading through his body. He loved them too much and he would love them until he died. Which, if he stayed like he did, would be very soon. 

Taking the momentary relief from the lack of blockage in his esophagus, he took deep breaths, drying his eyes and trying to calm himself enough to look presentable. Thankfully, he didn’t have to go back to class, as the bell rang before he could even think about it. He was glad he grabbed his things as he quietly made his way out of the room and blended into the sea of students rushing for the doors. 

“Shua! There you are! Mingyu texted us, are you ok? Your eyes are red, were you crying? Oh, god, please tell me you haven’t come down with anything serious!” Jeonghan’s worried voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he almost laughed at the statement. 

“ _Does having flowers grow in my lungs count as serious?”_ He wanted to ask. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to worry Jeonghan.

“You sure you’re alright?” Seungcheol’s voice, oh-so soft and gentle, came up behind him, and he turned, closing his eyes as he felt the older carefully wipe away the dampness from his cheeks. The tender action only made his heart hurt more.

“Yeah, I think I’m just allergic to something. I don’t usually get seasonal allergies but I know they can sometimes develop over the years,” he lied easily, smiling weakly at the pair. They gave him concerned smiles in return, Jeonghan instantly linking an arm with his.

“You sure you don’t want our help? We’d be glad to take care of you,” the older fretted, a frown marring his pretty face. Joshua didn’t like being the source of his worry.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t want you two to get sick too,” he said calmingly, even as he felt the flowers in his lungs constrict, feeding off of his unrequited affection for the pair.

“Well if it gets worse, you know who to call, ok?” Seungcheol prompted, patting his hair. Joshua smiled, nodding.

“God, just date him already,” snorted a familiar grumpy voice behind them. Joshua jumped, paling a little. Did Jihoon know? How? Did he see the petals _oh god what if he saw the petals_ -

“Oh come on, Jihoon, he’s my best friend! He’s off-limits. A pure little thing,” Jeonghan joked.

“And besides, I’m pretty sure Hannie would skin me if I tried to do anything. He’s just too innocent to date,” Seungcheol added, and Joshua felt like a curtain had suddenly been thrown over his whole life. 

“Keep telling yourselves that,” Jihoon muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and burrowing into his scarf. “You already act like you’re all dating anyway.”

“Aww, is our Jihoonie lonely? Maybe Joshuji can keep you company. Ooh, or Soonyoung! I bet you’d love that-”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Jihoon growled, shooting the older a look that only made Jeonghan laugh.

“I bet Soonyoung would love to dote on you,” Seungcheol cooed. “He already does. Have you not noticed?”

“I notice, I just _choose_ to ignore it,” Jihoon huffed, looking disgruntled and a little embarrassed.

Joshua tuned out their conversation, feeling his chest ache and _ache_ in ways he never thought would hurt. He knew at that point that for sure, there was no way he could get Jeonghan and Seungcheol to love him. Apparently, to them, he was “off-limits” for some reason. He felt another round of petals rise in his mouth and as discreetly as possible, he tried to swallow them back down, desperate not to start throwing up petals in front of the reasons they were there in the first place. 

“-uji? Joshuji? You ok?” Jeonghan’s voice brought him back to the present, and eyes watering a little, he looked up.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok. Just- just allergies,” he said between pathetic little wheezes, trying to seem actually ok. It didn’t seem to work very well, if the other three’s concerned stares said anything. He tried not to wince as he felt a wide hand being placed between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down gently. He smiled weakly at Seungcheol, but looked quickly back down at his shoes, unable to keep the older’s earnestly concerned gaze. Right now, he can’t look at any of them. The petals in his pockets weigh like stones, and it’s with heavy feet and a heavier heart that he continues to walk with them.

* * *

When he gets home it’s both a blessing and a curse, because he’s finally alone, but that means he gets to spend the next few hours coughing up red petals that mock him whenever he looks at them. 

He forced down a couple bites of food before his body decided to flip him a big middle finger and made him throw it all up again in gross, half-digested chunks. He gave up, though his stomach was empty and his limbs felt weak, and turned to doing his homework. 

The distraction seemed to quell the flowers for a moment. When he wasn’t thinking about Jeonghan or Seungcheol or both, the petals momentarily stopped trying to pour out of his mouth. Glad for the temporary respite, he worked late into the night, finishing a couple things that weren’t even due until a few weeks later because it meant he could breathe freely for a couple hours.

When he ran out of things to do, he stood up, downing a glass of water and once again trying to feed himself something light. He got an orange down before he decided not to push his luck anymore and didn’t eat anything else.

Stepping out onto the balcony of his apartment, he took a deep breath of the cold night air (or at least, as deep of a breath as he could). There were plants and flowers scattered everywhere; his own personal little slice of home. He’d always liked plants, always liked flowers, but now the irony was crushing. Why does he need a garden on his balcony when he has one inside his body, feeding off of his feelings and forcing petals up his throat? He laughed quietly at the stupidity of the situation, but it quickly turned into another coughing fit until he was on his knees again, coating the rough floor with beautiful red rose petals. 

When he could breathe again, he wiped his teary eyes and gathered the petals, throwing them out into the air where they hung, suspended gracefully for the shortest of moments, before falling, floating down from side to side like blood-stained feathers. The analogy made him shiver, and quickly he turned around and went back inside, locking the sliding door behind him.

He showered briefly and hopped into his soft sleeping clothes, sliding under the covers, shivering a little. After a moment of consideration, he sat back up and pulled his laptop towards himself again, going back to one of the more scientific cites about his current “problem”. 

“Symptoms of day one,” he read aloud. “Coughing, minor chest pain, appearance of loose petals. Possible lightheadedness and headaches.” He snorted dryly, shutting his laptop again. So he definitely had the disease; he wasn’t dreaming. He really was about to die for people who would never love him back the way he wanted so badly. But he wasn’t mad, not at them, anyway. Only at himself, for falling in love with impossible circumstances. He would always love Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

The thought made his chest hurt enough for him to curl up in discomfort, and he filled the room with his wheezing until he finally coughed up another wad of rose petals into his hands, where he stared at them in disgust and distress. He tipped them into the trash can beside his bed, feeling tears well up in his eyes but not from the petals. 

How could he have fallen in love with them? They were the perfect couple, with no need for him. To make matters worse, he was their best friend. He wasn’t allowed into that part of their relationship. The unspoken rules surrounding them kept them firmly separated. It was a painful reminder everyday, but he bore with it, because he didn't want to ruin their already special connection. He has to be content with just being their friend. As long as he can see them happy, he won’t mind so much.

But he did mind. He wanted to see them happy, but he wanted to be the reason why. He wanted to make them smile, wanted to make their days better, wanted to wake up and be able to whisper how much he loved them directly into their ears every day. 

He curled up further under the blankets, sniffling quietly. He fell asleep like that, chest aching a little and tears wetting his pillow. 

His last thought is that he has six days left. Six days left to love Jeonghan and Seungcheol as much as he can without alerting them of his condition. Because for the life of him he won’t let them worry about him anymore. He loves them too much to do that.


	3. Day 2: Running Out Of Thyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe more symbolism and bad puns

He wakes up halfway through the night, and immediately knows something is wrong. There was something lodged in his throat again, and with an effort, he sat up, trying to draw in air.

He doesn’t even make it to the bathroom, still sitting hunched over in bed when he spits out a few new flowers, small ones with a purple-pink color that would have been very pretty if they weren’t connected to the garden in his lungs. He stared down at them for a moment, holding them in his hands. If the rose petals were for Jeonghan, then the little ones must have been for Seungcheol. They came whole, too small to cough up single petals, but they still burned. 

He winced, crushing the petals in his hands as his chest squeezed painfully again. For the next several minutes, he coughed up a few more of the small flowers, along with two rose petals, looking almost like blood stains against his pale skin. The thought made him shudder and he quickly tossed the flowers into the trash, getting up slowly to grab a glass of water. Staring out of the window above the sink, he sighed softly, glancing down at his hands again. 

If he can just last another week, then he won’t have to suffer anymore. And of course, he’ll love Jeonghan and Seungcheol as much as he can along the way. A small smile graced his face as he thought of ways to do so. He knew that his sudden affection would be a little strange, but not necessarily unwelcome if he played his cards right. Jeonghan wasn’t above wrapping an arm around him no matter where they were, and he’d held hands with Seungcheol more than once, and he’d hugged both of them more times than he could count, but he wanted to be careful. He didn’t want them to be suspicious. 

He smiled further at the thought of somehow being able to cuddle with the two. It didn’t seem too entirely impossible, but his smile fell as the thorns in his chest tightened, making his knees weak and wobbly. Drawing in a ragged breath, he let it out slowly, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before taking in air would be a challenge in itself.

* * *

Walking to school was confusing and a little painful. He felt dizzy, a little disoriented, like his world had tipped slightly to the side. Jihoon kept giving him worried looks as Joshua’s path continued to stray to the side every now and then, but he didn’t comment on it.

When they got through the doors, Joshua actually bumped into the doorframe, shaking his head with a frown, mumbling apologies to the people who had stopped behind him, then moving forward with a furrowed brow and half-squinted eyes.

“Dude, you alright? You look kinda...stoned, honestly,” Jihoon snorted, grabbing the strap of his bag to tug him away from running into the wall. Joshua took a few seconds to answer, pausing to rub his eyes with a muted groan.

“Didn’t- didn’t sleep well last night. I think I might be sick,” he mumbled into his palms, eyes stinging a little as he shut them.

“Uh. That’s...not good?”

“No duh,” Joshua huffed, amused at Jihoon’s utter lack of being able to comfort someone. 

“Allergies?”

“Probably,” he lied, shrugging. Jihoon shot him another look but said nothing and they walked to class in silence.

* * *

All throughout the first half of the day, he was fighting down more petals, and by the time lunch swung around, he felt like he was going to throw up from the awful feeling in his stomach. His throat was dry and itchy and his eyes were bloodshot from how much he’d rubbed at them while trying to clear his unusually fuzzy vision. 

Jeonghan handing him a thermos is not what he expects when he walks into the cafeteria, but he takes it anyway, giving the older a confused look.

“Tea,” Jeonghan hummed simply. “I figured it’d make you feel better if your throat hurts.”

“Thanks, Hannie,” he smiled, grateful for his thoughtful little action. Jeonghan smiled back at him, patting the top of his head, momentarily running his fingers through the younger’s hair with a fond look on his face.

“Of course. Anything for my best friend,” he chuckled, and the flowers in Joshua’s lungs tightened a little, mocking him. He disguised his coughing as simply clearing his throat, and to avoid answering, he took a sip of the warm tea. It didn’t do much to ease the pain, but it made his throat less dry. It was like that a lot; nothing seemed to soothe him, lungs pained no matter what he did and throat dry no matter how much water he drank.

“Hungry? We could go get food together,” Jeonghan offered, smiling brightly. “Me and Wonwoo and Jun and Minghao made a bet with Seokmin, Mingyu, and Chan, and we won, so now they have to buy us food.”

“What’d you bet about?” Joshua snorted, despite not feeling very hungry at all. Jeonghan smirked.

“How long Soonyoung could last not talking about Jihoon.” Joshua winced sympathetically, but he smiled in amusement. 

“What were the bets?”

“I bet five minutes, they bet ten. He lasted like, three. It was hilarious.” He rolled his eyes fondly, and Joshua laughed.

“He’s so whipped for Jihoon, isn’t he,” he smiled, feeling his insides clench up uncomfortably in contrast to his casual words. 

“He totally is,” Jeonghan snorted. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder how you’d act if you were completely and utterly in love with someone. That’d be funny to watch.”

_You don’t need to wonder; just look at how I act around you and Seungcheol! Isn’t that enough? How can I be enough for you? How can I show you that I’m just as weak for you as you are for each other?_

He said none of his thoughts, only smiled awkwardly, finding refuge in taking another drink of his tea. This seemed to mean something to the older, if the grin growing over his face said anything.

“Joshuji~” Jeonghan purred in his dangerously sly voice, the one where he knew something and wanted to wheedle it out of someone. “Is there something you aren’t telling me~?”

_God, where to even start. What a story that would be._

“Of course not Hannie, nothing that would concern you.” He smirked back, thanking his lucky stars for his improvising skills. As much as he hated lying to his friends, it was one secret he had to keep. He’d take it to his grave. Literally. 

Jeonghan gave him a scrutinizing look, then laughed.

“I don’t even know why I asked. You’re just so small and innocent and pure, there’s no way you got yourself a sweetheart. But~ if you do get one, tell me, alright? I need to approve of them. As your best friend, I need to make sure you don’t end up with some douchebag.”

_Well I’m pretty damn sure you approve of Seungcheol, if the way you look at him says anything. And I know you well enough to know you approve yourself. There’s no point in even telling you. That would ruin everything. We’re friends and that’s all we’ll ever be, no matter how much I want to change that. I just have to live with that for five more days._

“Always so thoughtful, aren’t you?” Joshua said dryly, trying not to cringe as thorns wrapped more tightly around his trachea. “And relax, there’s...there isn’t anyone. No one you need to worry about anyway.” He smirked a little as Jeonghan’s expression grew curiously suspicious. Calmly, he sipped at his tea, as though flowers weren’t demanding to meet their maker in front of him by crawling up his throat. 

“...Alrighty then. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Jeonghan promised with a finality that made Joshua chuckle in spite of the pain.

“Anyway, wanna get food?” Jeonghan continued in a voice of grandeur, pulling a dejected-looking Seokmin over by the sleeve.

“It’s ok, I’m not that hungry. I wouldn’t want to make you pay for an extra person anyway,” Joshua said quickly, patting the younger’s arm sympathetically. Seokmin smiled at him, but Jeonghan tugged at his arm too.

“Come on, Shua, please? At least keep me company,” he whined.

“You have Seungcheol to do that,” he snorted, even as the words physically pained him to speak. “On the subject, where the heck is he?”

“Oh, he’s probably- MMF!” Seungkwan violently slapped a hand over Chan’s mouth, casually shooting Joshua a casual smile.

“He’s in the library with Hansol. Said he had to catch up on some stuff.” Joshua frowned a little at that, because Seungcheol usually had pretty good grades already, but he shrugged.

“Alright then. Honestly I should probably go there too. I need to finish a history paper.” It was another small lie; he didn’t really have anything to finish, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go where Seungcheol was lest he hack up more of those damned flowers, but he didn’t want to show Jeonghan either, especially if there was more than one person around.

“You’re no fun, you nerd,” Jeonghan pouted, hanging off of Seokmin’s shoulder. “But fine. I’ll bring you food later though!” Seokmin gave Jeonghan an almost offended look and Joshua waved a hand, laughing.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, ok? Go and enjoy your spoils of war.” He shooed them off, where they gathered with the others until he was alone with Seungkwan, Jihoon, and Soonyoung. 

“I’m gonna go to the library,” he hummed to them, and they nodded. Gathering his things, Joshua quickly left, forgetting the thermos Jeonghan had given him, leaving it sitting alone on a table by itself. Still steaming a little, the scent of thyme rose and filled the air around it.

* * *

The rest of the day was hell for him. Apparently, the world must not have liked Joshua very much, because he spent half the time taking shallow breaths, feeling lightheaded, and trying his hardest not to let more petals spill from his lips. When the final bell rang, he hid in the bathroom again, fingers clamped over his lips while his body tried to eject the cause of the pain in his chest. Shaking, he leaned against the door, letting out choked little noises and biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed to stop the flowers from escaping. He didn’t want to see the petals, didn’t want to see the physical consequences of his unrequited love. 

But still they clogged his throat until he couldn’t breathe and was forced to cough them up into his hands, where a few slipped from his palms and fluttered to the floor. Scrunching up his nose, he took a few deep breaths before picking them up and throwing them away. 

He leaned on the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He frowned when he saw he didn’t look quite as...normal as he usually did. His already fair skin was paler, and under his eyes there were faint dark circles. He looked more tired, just...defeated. He ran a hand through his hair tiredly, mussing up the strands and not even remotely caring.

He jumped when his phone buzzed, showing him a short text from Jihoon that only consisted of “Where be” and nothing else. Snorting at Jihoon’s totally impeccable grammar, he didn’t bother to answer, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Feeling a little better, he hurried out to the front, where Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan were all already waiting.

“Sorry, sorry, had to grab something from another class,” he said quickly, thinking on the spot as he’d grown accustomed to doing. 

“Well, at least you’re here,” Seungcheol grinned, draping an arm over Jeonghan’s shoulder. Joshua rolled his eyes.

“You don’t _have_ to wait for me, I can walk on my own-”

“But we wanna walk with you,” Jeonghan pouted. Seungcheol nodded and Jihoon just gave a weird half shrug, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“Can we hurry up? I have work to do,” he muttered, and Joshua snorted. 

“For someone who isn’t above walking away, you sure did wait for me,” he teased. Jihoon glared at him before promptly turning and walking away. Snickering, the older three followed, exchanging amused looks.

He was infinitely grateful none of them seemed to notice how awful he looked.

* * *

His night was spent alternating between coughing up wads of flowers and trying to get work done, which became increasingly difficult when he had a headache the size of a mountain and his vision kept blurring a little at the edges. He kept ending up staring blankly at his keyboard, fingers hovering over the letters but not typing. He’d stay like that for minutes at a time, until he noticed he was zoning out and reigned himself back in. 

Eventually, he gave up, closing his laptop and grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes with a slow groan. Before the lingering tickle in his throat could come up again, he grabbed the bottle of water he’d brought with him and chugged it unthinkingly, coughing a little anyway at the overwhelming rush of water. He ended up spitting out both water and a single rose petal as karma, and, sighing in a defeated fashion, he cleaned them up, but not before awkwardly hacking up another one of the smaller, pink-purple flowers. He’d done a bit of digging and found out they were thyme flowers.

An idea occurred to him and once he’d finished wiping away the water, he grabbed his laptop again, rubbing his eyes a couple times before pulling up a new tab and searching up the meaning of roses and thyme in flower language. Of course, roses meant beauty and love and seduction and all that, he knew that, but he was a little surprised to find that thyme represented strength and courage, perfect for Seungcheol. For such a small, innocent-looking flower, it suited the older well. 

He gave a half-hearted smile at the oddly fitting meanings for the older two, before his smile fell again. He sighed softly, wincing at the effort it took to do so, and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to get up and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay on his feet if he did so, so for a long time he simply sat there in silence, focusing on drawing in deep breaths of air and specifically not thinking of Jeonghan and Seungcheol. 

He hated just how hard it was not to.


	4. Day 3: A Phone Call Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe SAD  
> this one's gonna be a little longer than the previous ones so have fun

Getting ready the next morning was hard. His depth perception was thrown; everything seemed a little to the side or a little too far or a little too close. He kept missing the handles on doors and cabinets because his brain saw the world slightly off-kilter. He constantly had to shake his head and blink several times to get back to normal. 

He’s grateful for Jihoon when he walks, and he tries not to think about the younger’s concerned glances, and how his hand always clings tightly to one of his backpack straps, guiding him away from large crowds and objects to bump into. Joshua’s grateful, but also guilty. 

“Dude, seriously, you ok?” Jihoon finally asked the question Joshua’s been dreading. Think. Improvise. Lie.

“Yeah, I just...kinda have a thing with my chest that flares up occasionally, especially in the winter. ‘S not fun, makes me super dizzy, but I got medication for it, so it should be fine soon,” he shrugged, rubbing his palm against his chest. 

Jihoon’s face was skeptical, and Joshua avoided looking at him. Then the shorter boy sighed.

“Sheesh, why didn’t you tell me that first? Made me worried.” Joshua forced out a chuckle.

“The unfeeling Lee Jihoon? Capable of worrying over people? How surprising.”

“Nope. Not worried anymore.”

“That’s more like you.” It felt a little easier to smile, but not by much. At least he didn’t have to be so on edge with Jihoon. 

He’s about to ask when a certain paper is due for their English class but a body running into his knocks the breath out of him and throws his whole body off-center. Wheezing, he almost falls over until a strong pair of arms grabs him and pulls him back upright. It doesn’t ease the lack of air burning his lungs, but at least he hadn’t kissed the tiles.

The lack of air stings even more when he’s met face-to-face with Seungcheol, noses almost touching. He goes very still, and Seungcheol doesn’t let him go, almost hugging him. For several long, tense seconds, they stared at each other.

“You ok?” the older finally asked, setting him more securely on his feet. “Sorry about that, I had to swerve to avoid hitting someone. Looks like I ended up hitting you instead.” He smiled apologetically and despite the flowers curling up his throat Joshua smiled back weakly.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” he forced out. He almost wrenched himself from Seungcheol’s arms when he started coughing again. The older hummed worriedly, rubbing his back with such tenderness that Joshua wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry, Shua, I didn’t mean to run into you so hard; are you sure you’re ok?” Joshua waved him off.

“Yeah- yeah, I’m ok, just winter allergies. And I’m cold. It’s too cold in this school.” The cold just made it harder to breathe in, no matter how many layers he put on.

Instantly, Seungcheol shucked his thick woolen jacket, holding it out. Eyes wide and insistent, he pushed it to the younger.

“C’mon, put it on. I don’t want you to be cold.” Joshua stared blankly at him and the coat, noting how all the older had on under it was a soft-looking blue hoodie.

“N-no, it’s ok, I don’t want you to be cold either-” He’s cut off by Seungcheol’s noise of exasperated impatience, and Joshua squeaks as Seungcheol snags his backpack from him and drapes the coat over his shoulders, rolling his eyes as he goes. The older pats the top of his head when he’s done, grinning in a smug, triumphant way.

“There! Ah- no, don’t give me that look-” He smirked further as Joshua hurriedly tried to give him back the jacket, and before the younger could protest he buttoned up the coat around his neck, letting him move his arms but keeping him wrapped in a loose embrace of soft, warm fabric.

It’s the nicest thing Joshua has felt all day. It’s still warm from the older’s body heat and it’s comfy and it smells like Seungcheol, like the cheap but still pleasant cologne he wears and Joshua, at the moment, wants nothing more than to simply drown in it. 

He stopped fighting, sliding his arms into the sleeves and pulling the jacket tight around his body. He burrowed into the high collar, humming contentedly. It was a little big on his thinner frame, but he liked it, especially the way the hems fell past his fingertips.

“Thanks,” he mumbled eventually, flicking a look at Seungcheol through his eyelashes. The smile the older gave him was infectious. They both ignored Jihoon’s short, slightly disbelieving snort from beside them.

“Not a problem. I can’t let my friends be cold now, can I?” He ruffled Joshua’s hair with another bright smile and the warm feelings in the younger’s chest froze and shattered. Right, they were just friends. Nothing more. Despite the heat from the coat, his whole body shivered and the flowers in his lungs squeezed cruelly, forcing another cough out of him. Seungcheol’s expression grew concerned again, and the hand in his hair stilled. Joshua gave him a small reassuring smile, and faintly the older smiled back. He handed Joshua back his bag, ruffling his hair one last time before hiking his own more securely over his shoulder.

“I should probably go find Hannie, but you stay warm today, alright? You can keep that for however long you want,” he hummed to the younger, who nodded, trying fiercely not to throw up more petals. Seungcheol shot him a charming smile and Joshua wanted nothing more than to kiss him, before he ran off, leaving the younger still surrounded by his scent and his warmth but more alone than ever.

“Whipped,” Jihoon snorted quietly. Joshua didn’t know whether he was talking about him or Seungcheol, but he huffed anyway.

“Oh shut up. They’re dating. I’m just their friend. I’d do the same for you. Probably.” Jihoon just gave him a weird sort of doubtful side-eye and shook his head, nuzzling into his thick red scarf. Joshua raised an eyebrow at the new piece of clothing, something he hadn’t seen on Jihoon before.

“And you can’t say anything. You got a scarf.”

“Correction, someone _gifted_ me a scarf,” Jihoon muttered, not looking at him. Joshua smirked, following the younger as he started walking away.

“Oh? Who? I don’t know many people willing to give you gifts, Hoonie,” he teased. He was amused for all of five seconds until he ran into a corner leading to another hallway. Jihoon’s grumpy expression became thoroughly disgruntled as he tugged the older back to him by the hem of Seungcheol’s coat.

“Quit worrying about me, worry about yourself. You keep running into stuff; it’s not fun to watch no matter what I’ve said. It’s only funny the first few times. Do you need glasses or something?”

“Told you, it’s just allergies and stuff. I have medicine for it, don’t worry,” he ground out, rubbing his eyes for a moment. The soft fabric of Seungcheol’s jacket brushed against his cheeks and the pain that had taken root in his chest suddenly spiked. “Which I’ll go take now. See you in class.”

Without giving the surprised Jihoon a chance to respond, he speed-walked off to the nearest empty bathroom, where he managed for all of three seconds to hold back the petals before they spilled into his hands. It was mocking, how pretty they were.

Breathing heavy and ragged, he flushed the petals away, giving a whole body shudder before picking up his bag again. He once again noted how the sleeves of Seungcheol’s jacket fell past his fingers, and the thought triggered another wave of petals until he was on his knees, head spinning from lack of oxygen.

He dragged in air when he could, and by the time he made it to his first class he was a minute late and his hands smelled of roses and thyme. He ignored everyone’s curious gaze, trying to focus on the whiteboard. His vision kept fuzzing out, and concentrating was hard. Everything was a little blurry and he had to squint a lot.

He was glad for the breaks between classes where he could hide away and hack up more petals, crushing them in his fingers with a desperation born of longing and unresolved feelings.

When he feels a chin land on his shoulder when he’s standing and talking to Seungkwan during lunch, he instantly tenses up at the smell of roses filling his nose. It reminds him too much of the ones in his lungs and he coughs a little.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Jeonghan hummed apologetically. “You just smell nice, like the tea I gave you yesterday. You forgot it in the cafeteria, you silly bean,” he chuckled, thumping the younger gently on the top of the head. “Seriously, tell me where you get your perfume.”

“I don’t wear perfume, Hannie, you know that,” he chuckled awkwardly, fighting down the ache in his chest. “Also, you know I take care of flowers on my balcony.”

“Yeah but you never usually _smell_ like them. Have you been rolling around in them? Also, roses don’t bloom in the winter. Not a lot of flowers do, Shua.” His voice was slightly amused and still much too close for Joshua’s heart to bear. He moved away, just a little, but Jeonghan followed, almost putting his face in Joshua’s neck.

“Mm...you smell like Cheolie too. Are you wearing his coat? It’s too big for you and he wasn’t wearing a jacket when I saw him this morning. I thought he would have been cold but it looks like I’ve found the culprit.” Practically purring, Jeonghan wrapped his arms around Joshua’s waist, long hair ticking his neck. 

Joshua wanted to sob. He wanted to turn around and bury his face in Jeonghan’s chest and hug him back. He wanted to kiss him and Seungcheol senseless until they were all giggling and happy. But he couldn’t. They would never love him that way. The sudden intense pain in his chest was a cruel reminder, and with difficulty he pulled away from the older, who actually _whined_ when he moved.

“Nooo, come back, let me hug you. You’re warm.” He made childish grabby hands towards the younger, much to the amusement of their friends. Joshua noted Seungcheol was missing, much like the day before. He tried not to dwell on it.

Instead he took off Seungcheol’s coat, shivering at the loss of warmth, and held it out to Jeonghan.

“I’m sure he’d be happier if you wore it.” He tried to smile, he really did, but it must have not looked that believable because Seokmin and Minghao gave him a slightly concerned look.

On the other hand, Jeonghan looked delighted, pulling it on immediately and hugging it to his chest.

“It’s still warm, that’s so nice,” he cooed. “And it smells like you two. I’m gonna wear this all day,” he promised, and at his gleeful smile Joshua was slapped in the face with another reminder of just why he loved the other boy. 

“Be my guest,” he shrugged, even as his body started to shiver with the lack of warmth and the piercing pain in the back of his throat. The pain sharpened when Jeonghan tugged him close again, wrapping the ends of the jacket around him.

“Don’t want you to be cold either,” was the older’s simple explanation. There was a terrible stinging behind Joshua’s eyes and again, he pulled himself back. He needed to get away. Away from Jeonghan’s warm embrace and sweet rose scent because if he stood there any longer he thought petals were going to burst from his chest in an awful, bloody mass.

“Don’t worry, I’m not cold. I gotta go grab something from the library, I’ll be right back,” he said in one long, wheezy breath, flashing a weak smile before turning his back on Jeonghan’s slightly stunned face. He didn’t make it twelve steps before he felt the first tear slide out of his eye.

* * *

“Did I...did I do something wrong?” Jeonghan stared after his best friend, who had left so suddenly it felt like he had taken a piece of the older with him. Arms empty, he looked at Seungkwan, whose eyebrows were arched in surprise.

“Maybe he doesn’t like how clingy you are,” Jihoon snorted from beside Seungkwan. Jeonghan glared at him, but his expression turned worried again.

“He’s...different. He’s been off these last few days,” he mumbled, twisting his fingers anxiously in the sleeves of his boyfriend’s jacket. It was warm with Joshua’s body heat and smelled faintly of flowers and clean sheets. “I really hope he isn’t too sick… If he is then I should give this back to him. I don’t think being cold will help him,” he mumbled, looking down at the jacket.

“Just give him a jacket for his birthday. It’s coming up; it’d be perfect,” Mingyu piped up from his spot next to Wonwoo. Jeonghan shushed him dramatically.

“Keep it down! No one is to know but us! It has to be a _surprise!_ ”

“At this rate Mingyu’s big mouth will ruin all that,” Wonwoo huffed. Mingyu flicked him and they descended into petty squabbling. Jeonghan rolled his eyes at their typical cat and dog behavior, but his mind was still fixed on Joshua. Something had happened that the younger wasn’t telling him. He liked to think he knew Joshua very well. And he had known him long enough to know when he was upset. 

But Joshua wasn’t _just_ upset, it seemed. He was upset but it was like it was weighing him down and he was trying to hide it. Trying, because he could still see it in the younger’s weak smiles and constantly red-rimmed eyes and empty, blank look when they walked home together.

He worried if it was his fault. He knew he was touchy; he liked to hug and cuddle and be intimate with his friends, but he’d always thought Joshua was ok with that. Just last week, he’d swung by the younger’s apartment and they’d snuggled on the couch for hours (though the more Jeonghan thought about it, the more he remembered how there had been a note of wariness in Joshua's movements whenever the older got especially close), eating shitty popcorn and watching old movies. They’d even ended up falling asleep on each other. He always grabbed Joshua’s hand and swung their interlaced fingers back and forth; it was in his nature to sidle up close to people and walk hand in hand. But Joshua had never protested against his skinship before.

It worried him more than he was ready to admit. Oddly enough, even Joshua’s sudden new flowery smell was worrying. It was cloying, almost overpowering, surrounding him in a heady cloud of roses and thyme. Nice scents, but almost too much. He knew Joshua didn't wear perfume, and no lotion he knew of had such a strong scent, so he was confused by the sudden appearance of the overwhelming smell. It had seemed to become noticeable right around the time Joshua had started to act weird.

He wondered what had happened to his previously bright best friend, who was always there behind him, always there to look out for him, always there for him to fall back on if he needed. For as long as he could remember, Joshua had been there. With shy smiles when they first met, and even shyer hand holding and hair petting when Jeonghan got sad and needed someone to snuggle. He’d followed Jeonghan like a puppy, offering soft words of wisdom and caution when needed and encouragement in other times. They were best friends for a reason. He told Joshua everything. He’d first come out to the younger, and when he started dating Seungcheol Joshua was the first to know. Joshua knew him as well as he knew Joshua.

It hurt a little, to wonder why Joshua was hiding something from him. Best friends shouldn’t hide secrets, he thought. Then he reasoned with himself that it might have been a very personal or family matter, but it did little to assuage his worries. He just wanted Joshua to smile again. And not the weak, fake smiles he’d been giving the past few days. He wanted to see Joshua really smile, where his eyes curved into cute little crescents and his teeth showed from between full lips. It used to be so easy to make him smile.

But now it almost seemed like the younger was avoiding him. He had no idea why, and he wouldn’t push too hard, but he was starting to get concerned. If someone or something had hurt his precious Joshuji, then they would pay. Protective thoughts filling his head, he hopped off of the table he had been perched on, wrapping Seungcheol’s jacket more tightly around him. 

“I’m gonna go talk to Cheol,” he called lazily over his shoulder, receiving an answering hum from Hansol. He knew his boyfriend was getting something ready for Joshua’s birthday, but even he didn’t know what it was. He was curious of course, but Seungcheol said to simply wait and see, so he didn’t pry.

He found his boyfriend in an empty classroom on the second floor, perched on a desk and working on something in his hands, back to the door. A smile graced his face at the older’s single-mindedness as he knocked, opening the door slowly.

“Cheolie~” he cooed, walking in and shutting the door behind him. “What’cha been working on so hard?” Seungcheol jumped a little, but he was grinning as he turned to face the younger.

“Can’t tell ya, sorry,” he chuckled, sliding whatever he’d been working on into a bag behind him. “And are you wearing my coat? I thought I gave it to Joshua.”

“He gave it to me when I said I was cold, sweet thing,” Jeonghan smiled, but his face fell as he remembered why he’d looked for Seungcheol in the first place.

“Angel? Are you alright?” Seungcheol reached out to tug his boyfriend closer by the sleeve, turning to hold both of his hands in his own.

“Does...does Joshua seem any different to you? Like has he acted weird lately at all?” Seungcheol tilted his head to the side in an adorable fashion, but his concerned look cancelled out its effects.

“Not too much? I mean, he told us he was sick, so that’s probably why,” he shrugged, reaching up to cup Jeonghan’s face. The younger placed his own hand over Seungcheol’s with a sigh, leaning into him.

“Maybe. But he doesn’t let me get that close to him anymore. It’s like he’s trying to hold himself back from something. And he looks so sad, when you really look at him closely. I hope he’s doing alright.”

“He’d tell us if something was wrong,” Seungcheol soothed. “At least, he’d probably tell us. He’s our best friend, isn’t he? I’m sure nothing bad will happen.” Jeonghan cracked a faint smile. His boyfriend never failed to cheer him up.

“I hope you’re right,” he shrugged, leaning forward to press a kiss to the older’s nose. Then his forehead, then cheeks, then lips. Seungcheol’s hands fell from his face to his hips, pulling him even closer between his legs. Smiling a little wider, Jeonghan melted against him, eager for the comfort Seungcheol effortlessly exuded.

When the door opened suddenly, they both looked up. It wasn’t that odd for someone to walk in on them kissing, but it always surprised them a little.

It was even more surprising when Jeonghan caught a glimpse of a familiar honey brown gaze, glittering with a suspicious wetness, one that immediately slipped away. A faint “I’m sorry”, oddly raspy, floated into the room as their intruder disappeared again, leaving the older two once again in an empty room.

“...See? He’s being weird. Normally he’d just barge right in and tease us,” Jeonghan pouted, missing the times when Joshua still seemed normal. Seungcheol’s grip on his hips tightened slightly.

“...We’ll check up on him later, sound good? Don’t worry, angel, I’m sure it’s not too serious.” Only slightly soothed by his words, Jeonghan let his boyfriend gently pull him into more kisses, petting his raven black hair while lost in thought. He certainly hoped Seungcheol was right.

* * *

Seeing the couple kissing in the empty classroom had been the last straw for Joshua’s waning control. The look of startled surprise on their faces, the sight of Seungcheol’s hands on Jeonghan’s hips, seeing just how close together they were, it was too much. All he’d wanted was to find a quiet place to cry and try not to cough up one of his lungs, but all he’d succeeded in doing was summoning more petals and more tears.

It got harder to cough up the flowers; they clogged up his airways and sometimes he felt dizzy for minutes afterwards, dragging air into his lungs. Whenever he closed his eyes, images of the older couple kissing flashed over his vision and just made his chest hurt more. Plagued by bittersweet envy, he hid away for the remainder of lunch, not bothering to go back to the others.

But after his fourth period, something soft and warm falls over his shoulders, and once again he finds himself enveloped in Seungcheol’s scent and Jeonghan’s rose. It fills him with a disproportionate amount of panic.

“Hey there,” Jeonghan hummed from one side of him.

“Thanks for bursting in on us,” Seungcheol chuckled on his other side. Joshua, trying not to bolt, smiled weakly. 

“Sorry about that…” Jeonghan snickered, linking an arm with his, waving his apology off. 

“It’s fine. Happens a lot.”

“You two should find better places to make out if it ‘happens a lot’.”

“Oh yeah like where.”

“Not some random empty classroom that anyone can enter?”

“...Shush. Anyway, why’d you run off so soon? I could have invited you to join us~”

Joshua was glad for Seungcheol whacking Jeonghan’s shoulder lightly, because he couldn’t respond for how the pain in his chest had suddenly spiked. He knew his face was red, but tears stung at his eyes again.

“You alright? Your cheeks are all pink,” Seungcheol teased, poking his face gently. Joshua turned away a little.

“‘M fine,” he said in a slightly hoarse voice, not noticing how the older pair exchanged a look. “And no thanks, I’d rather not get involved with your little...activities.” A lie, drenched in the most sarcasm he could muster, but a lie nonetheless. He would have very much liked to join them, feel Seungcheol’s plump lips on his own and let Jeonghan pepper smooches all over his face. He, of course, said none of that out loud.

And in his silence the flowers in his lungs flourished, beautiful and torturous, elegant and agonizing, relishing and thriving in the words he couldn't say.

“Probably for the best,” Seungcheol hummed, sounding amused, and it was his turn to get whacked by Jeonghan. Joshua tried so hard to hide how much those simple words hurt. Seungcheol was right. It was probably for the best that he didn’t get involved. It was probably for the best if he left them alone, if he let them be happy just by themselves. They didn’t need him.

He took a deep breath, shivering even as Seungcheol’s coat wrapped him in superficial warmth. His eyes stung, his chest hurt, his hands were shaking, his lungs withered and his stomach curled uncomfortably. So much of him wanted so badly to hold the other two close, just confess so he could at least know what they would say. But at the same time he was terrified of doing so. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Joshuji? You alright? You’re shaking.” Jeonghan’s voice, soft and concerned, broke him from his thoughts. He couldn’t help but look up at the older, taking in his angular features, softened by worry, perfect lips tilted into a frown. That wasn’t good. He was supposed to keep Jeonghan happy. He was doing something wrong. But he couldn’t stop staring blankly at Jeonghan, taking in his every perfect imperfection, the way his dark eyes gleamed with warmth and worry, the way his eyelashes flickered when he blinked, the way he always leaned in a little closer whenever he was talking to someone. He took in all the reasons why he loved Jeonghan, took in all the reasons why he knew he was willing to die for them.

A hand on his shoulder made him turn to look at Seungcheol, and the same process happened. He observed the older’s cherry-red lips, adorable head tilt, fluffy black hair falling into kind eyes. He watched the way his stupidly long eyelashes fluttered, shadowing his pale cheeks. Again he was hit with a wave of painful affection. If he was going to die, then he was satisfied knowing he would die for worthy causes.

“Shua?” He blinked. Had the tremors in his hands increased?

“I’m ok. Just...blanked out for a second there. Nothing important.” Jeonghan grabbed one of his trembling hands.

“Shua, are you sure you’re alright? You eyes are red and your hands are shaking really badly.” 

“And no offense, but you sound awful,” Seungcheol added, and the guilt burned hot and heavy in Joshua’s already-pained chest. He couldn't tell them. So, he simply told them what he told Jihoon.

“Yeah, just a lung thing. Happens occasionally when it gets super cold. It’s not usually this bad, but I guess I just need to wear more layers.” He gave an off-handed shrug and the couple’s expressions eased.

Joshua, by contrast, tensed up when one of Seungcheol’s hands rubbed up and down his back in a way that probably meant to be soothing. It only made him feel worse.

“Well if you need our help, don’t be afraid to ask, ok? I will make it my personal duty to take care of you on weekends-” Joshua cut off Jeonghan’s tirade with a short, raspy laugh, shaking his head and waving a dismissive hand, hoping he didn’t look as awful as he felt.

“It’s ok, Han, don’t worry. Don’t give me that look, Cheol, I’ll be ok.” He shot them both what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and to his immense relief it seemed to work.

What wasn’t reliving was the spike of another ache in the back of his throat, one that forced a rough cough out of him. Seungcheol’s hand stayed on his back, rubbing gentle circles. Jeonghan’s hand, still in his, tightened a little.

“Do you need to go to the nurse? Are you sure you’re alright? If you’re sick you shouldn’t be at school, Shua, you should be resting.”

“I’m ok, I promise-” The bell rang, and Joshua all but tore himself away from them even as his heart protested wildly, screaming to go back and relax in their arms, let them take care of him like they offered. He wanted that so, so badly. He just wanted to melt in their embrace, just wanted to-

He shook his head and banished the thoughts, biting his lip to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. The last thing he needed was to cry during school hours out where people could see him.

* * *

“Could you two be any more oblivious?” Jeonghan frowned deeper as he turned at the sound Jihoon’s snarky voice.

“Oblivious to what?” Though Seungcheol spoke, he didn’t turn to look, still staring after where Joshua had slipped away.

“Well if you two don’t notice then I won’t say anything.” Smirking insufferably, Jihoon breezed past them, heading into a nearby classroom, leaving the older pair incredibly confused and more than a little concerned.

* * *

Getting home was even worse. Jeonghan clung to his hand and Seungcheol once again wrapped an arm around his waist, almost as if to keep him from running away this time. Joshua felt a little trapped.

But a part of him also felt warm as it always did when he was with them. Almost suspiciously, the flowers in his lungs seemed to have decided to give him a brief respite and it was a little easier to breathe and smile. Maybe it was just because he was warm. He still hadn’t taken off Seungcheol’s coat.

“There’s that smile,” Jeonghan cooed, poking his cheek and drawing a slightly sheepish grin out of the younger. “I missed your dorky lil smile, I’m glad it’s back. Feel better?” 

“A little, I guess,” Joshua hummed, watching as Jeonghan played with his fingers. 

“That’s good,” Seungcheol nodded, shooting him a smile that made Joshua’s heart melt. Jihoon snorted from behind them and Jeonghan sent him a glare that confused Joshua slightly, but he didn’t comment on it. He was content to relax in the lull of the pain, the sharp agony reduced to a dull ache somewhere around his heart. He could deal with that.

He takes advantage of the lack of serious pain in his chest and chooses to joke around with the three of them, feeling suspicious but too caught up to care. Jeonghan and Seungcheol seemed relieved, and Jihoon just kind of watched him.

When they got to his house, he really didn’t want to part with them. But Jihoon’s noise of impatience pulled the older two away from him, and it was with no small amount of reluctance that Jeonghan let go of his hand to link arms with Seungcheol. But still, Joshua felt happy. Giddy, almost. His heart was swamped with fond feelings, and he even twirled around after he closed the door, drowning in his affection for the pair.

_They don’t love you._

That single thought, sudden and intrusive, hit him like a punch to the chest, and immediately he stopped, smile slipping off of his face like water. Halting in the middle of his living room, he was very still, the pain in his lungs coming back with a vengeance. 

And less than 10 minutes later he was doubled up over his kitchen sink, hacking up more petals. When he could finally breathe again, he whined out a quiet noise, dragging air into his lungs. Everything hurt again, and his hands were trembling so badly he had to clutch onto the counter to keep them from shaking.

“They- they don’t love you,” he whispered to himself sternly, even as his voice broke over the words. It hurt to say but he had to tell himself the truth. He had to tell himself the truth even though he could feel tears sliding down his face, dripping into his sink and splattering with pathetic thunking noises. Even though it physically pained him, he knew that they wouldn’t love him. Not the way he wanted.

The thoughts brought up more petals and tears and that in turn just made him sadder until he was sitting on the cold, tiled floor, head in his knees, crying hard enough to fill the small space with his sobs. 

When he was done, he took several deep, shaky breaths of air, hands trembling. His phone had gone off several times during his little breakdown, but he didn’t want to check the notifications. Not until he was sure his voice would be steady if they tried to call him.

He looked at his phone, thinking he might as well at least tell his mother. Dialing the number with trembling fingers, he held the phone to his ear, coughing a little to try and rid himself of the blockage lodged there. As usual, it didn’t work very well.

“Joshua? How are you? You haven’t called in so long, I miss you!” His mother’s voice, familiar and comforting, seemed to quell the flower’s efforts to claw their way up his throat for a moment, and he smiled in spite of the stinging in his eyes.

“Hi mom,” he hummed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling again.

“You sound sick, honey, are you alright? Make sure to drink enough water and get plenty of rest, ok? Joshua…? Honey, are you ok?” Joshua had opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, taking several moments to think about how to tell her.

“Mom, I-...do you know what Hanahaki disease is?” he finally asked softly, feeling guilt rise up, more painful than the flowers, in his chest. There was long, long silence where neither of them said anything. 

“Who is it? How long?” Joshua’s heart clenched more at the way her voice shook, close to breaking. Her voice was so soft, so scared, and oddly regretful, as though she thought it was her fault. 

He debated on telling her. She knew he was gay, that didn’t matter, and she liked Jeonghan and Seungcheol. But he didn’t want her to get mad at them. It wasn’t their fault. It was his, for falling in love with people who couldn’t love him back. But he figured he owed her the truth.

“It’s- it’s Jeonghan and Seungcheol, and not including today, then four,” he finally mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes. He realized at that moment just how infinitely stupid he must have sounded. He opened his mouth to comment on it, but closed it again, not finding the proper words.

“...Oh Joshua,” his mother finally sighed, and she sounded so weary and tired and sad that Joshua wanted to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, not really sure why he was apologizing. Maybe for telling her that he was essentially going to die. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetie, don’t say that,” she said softly, using her special “mom-voice” that she used when she was comforting him. It always did wonders to make him feel better but at that point it made tears well up in his eyes. Then she sighed again. “I assume you’re not going to tell them?”

“I can’t, you know I can’t,” he whispered, voice cracking.

“Why?” she shot back, suddenly sounding desperate. “I won’t- I can’t just let you sit there and let some stupid flowers kill you! You’re my son, I can’t just let you die!” Her tone was edged with a sob, and her voice wavered dangerously.

“It’s not like I want to die! I just- I can’t tell them, you know that, I can’t- I can’t risk it.” He hung his head as he spoke, tempted to sink into the tiles and never be found. “I just can’t.” For another long stretch, his mother was silent.

“I’m begging you, Joshua, at least get the surgery. I know you don’t want to but as your mother, please, I’m asking you to do that for me. Please. I don’t want to lose you,” she said, very quietly. 

“...I can’t,” he mumbled again, feeling like such a complete and utter disappointment that the flowers weren’t the only reason his chest hurt. He hated making people sad, especially his family. And now he had basically told his mother that he was going to let those flowers simply take his life.

“ _Please_ ,” his mother asked again, and he heard her take in a breath, like she was trying very hard not to cry. Joshua didn’t answer, letting the silence speak for him. He bit his lip when he heard a soft sniffle on the other end of the line, and he felt tears sting at his own eyes. 

“Just- just consider it, ok? I don’t- I just want you to be happy,” she said in a shaky voice of fake assurance. He could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know.” He closed his eyes so as to not let more of his own tears escape, a painful lump in his throat. “Thank you.” There was another stretch of quiet.

“Joshua?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, mom.” It was at that point that the tears broke through, spilling over his face in rivulets. “I- I miss you too. I’ll- I’ll call everyday, ok?”

“Ok.” He could picture her nodding, eyes red and as watery as his own. He hated being the source of her sadness, but at that point she would be sadder if he didn’t tell her.

“Tell- tell your friends I say hi, ok?”

“I will,” he promised, wondering how exactly to do that when he could barely talk without coughing. “I love you,” he said again, just because he wanted to.

“I love you too, honey. Go rest. I’ll keep my phone on if you need something.”

“Thanks, mom. Bye,” he mumbled, feeling a little awkward and a lot guilty.

“I’ll call later,” she said gently, and, sniffling, he nodded to no one in particular.

“Thanks,” he choked out again. “Thank you.”

“I’m always here, sweetie. I love you. Now go rest before I show up and make you.” He laughed weakly at her more normal-sounding voice.

“Alright. See you, I guess.” There was an answering hum before he hung up, and once he was sure no one would hear him, he set his phone down, put his head in his knees again, and sobbed until he couldn’t cry anymore. It only became worse when he realized that he was still wearing Seungcheol’s coat, the hems of the sleeves now damp with his tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I finally watched the danceology w Hansol (my laptop wouldn't let me see it for some reason so I had to use my phone and my phone screen is vvvv small) aND HOLY SHIT I AM SHOOK  
> anyway lemme know how this chapter made u guys feel lmao


	5. Day 4: A Bloody Development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR BLOOD, DON'T READ IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE

The next day, his throat feels like he’s inhaled a whole beach’s worth of sand. Stumbling out of bed and trying not to aggravate his raw throat, he made his way to the kitchen where he spent the next few minutes gulping down water but not feeling very relieved. Chest heaving, he coughed up another wet clump of petals, which he dumped into the sink and stared at through watery eyes.

For a moment, just a tiny moment, he doubted what he was doing. Was he really going to do this? Was he really willing to die for his own unrequited love? He could get the surgery and move on, not have to suffer anymore. Then he shook his head. No. He wouldn’t get the surgery. It may have been hurting him but his love for Jeonghan and Seungcheol was too precious to him; he wouldn’t- _couldn’t_ lose it. Wiping his eyes aggressively, he coughed weakly a couple more times and got ready for school. 

A text from Jihoon informed him that the younger wouldn’t be walking with him. He frowned, then shrugged. Less people to see him coughing. He was almost grateful, because his body felt heavy and achy and he felt disoriented, more than a little dizzy. His hands never seemed to stop shaking slightly, and walking in a straight line grew harder. He knew his symptoms were getting worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. He just hoped no one else would notice. 

The walk to school felt like it took hours. He kept having to squint to see, and every breath of the crisp December air made his chest hurt, even if he was wearing Seungcheol’s coat and another thick sweater.

When he stepped into the school, he felt a little warmer, and for that he was grateful. He was a little less grateful for the body that suddenly slammed into his for the second time in two days, wrapping around his shoulders and nearly making him fall over.

“Shuuuua~” breathed a familiar voice into his ear, making him shiver at its closeness. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso and smelled the now-disturbing scent of roses fill the air. 

“H-hi Jeonghan,” he stammered, feeling his cheeks heat up at their close proximity. He tried to keep himself from relaxing too much into the older boy’s embrace, but it was hard, especially when Jeonghan gave him a little squeeze and kept clinging to him. Waddling after the younger, Jeonghan stayed close to him, arms tight around his chest, chattering about how cold it was and how annoying it was to get up so early for school. Joshua’s whole body ached to sink into his chest, turn around and kiss him, but he held himself back.

“You’re all tense, Joshuji, what’s wrong? Is your cough better? I hope it is; I don’t want you to be sick.” He flushed further when he felt Jeonghan’s long fingers press into his chest gently, rubbing small circles as though the motion would ease the growth of the flowers there. It only made it hurt worse, to have Jeonghan so close yet so untouchable. With a small cough, he extracted himself from Jeonghan’s arms, patting his shoulder with a smile even as thorns squeezed his lungs.

“I’ll be ok, don’t worry. I’ll get allergy medications soon, promise. Don’t worry too much about me. Where’s Seungcheol?” He wanted to get the topic off of himself, even if it meant bringing up the other reason that his body was becoming a garden. 

“Actually, I don’t know. Probably studying” Jeonghan hummed nonchalantly, shooting him a secretive smile and taking his hand, giving it a gentle, familiar squeeze. Joshua nodded absently, humming in response. Then he froze, right in the middle of the hallway, face paling.

The terrible feeling of forgetting something important washed over him, quick and merciless. He felt like he was drowning, lungs filled up with sand and water. There was something wrong but he couldn’t think of what it was, and panic flooded him, the painful spike in his chest twisting cruelly. How the world must have hated him. What did he do to deserve such punishment?

“Joshua? You ok? You suddenly went all pale…” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Jeonghan’s concerned face, pretty even when he was frowning. Fighting back a cough, he shook his head.

“Oh, just...remembered something important I had to do that I kind of forgot about,” he lied. Jeonghan gave him a narrow-eyed, silent look, but shrugged.

“If you say so. But don’t let it ruin your week, Shua, ok?” His excited smile returned and Joshua couldn’t help but smile back, albeit half-heartedly. Looking away, he coughed a couple times, and distantly he felt the older boy’s hand rub his shoulder soothingly. It did little to comfort him. If anything, it only made him feel worse.

* * *

When lunch came around, he had thrown up dozens more petals, tossing them all into the trash and making sure none of them stuck to his clothing. The last thing he wanted was for one of his friends to find out. Still, he wondered how obvious it was. He felt a lot more dizzy than that morning, unsteady and a little wobbly; he’d bumped into several things in the span of a few classes, garnering concerned looks from his classmates. His vision was blurring at the edges; if he stood up too fast black spots covered his sight; taking deep breaths was hard and often unsuccessful; his throat felt raw as though he had swallowed sandpaper, and once or twice he thought he tasted something metallic in the back of his mouth. 

He couldn’t stomach anything he tried to eat, not even when Mingyu offered him some of his coveted shrimp salad (which he often made just to piss Wonwoo off, the older being unable to eat seafood). He felt incredibly awful for declining, but he knew that if he ate something, he would most definitely just throw it all up again and he didn't want them to see that. He felt worse still when Mingyu gave him curious, worried looks all through lunch. 

He thought he was going to cry from the guilt when he stood up to leave not halfway through lunch, but the sudden intense pain right in the center of his chest had torn through him like an arrow, and just standing up and speaking hurt. As fast as he could while still seeming normal, he walked off, feeling their heavy gazes on his back as he slipped away. 

The moment he was alone in the first empty class he could find, he sunk to his knees, one hand tightly gripping the front of his shirt. He couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t _breathe_ , and all he could do was force out awful, choked noises and try not to be too loud, lest someone open the door to check on him.

Still, he half wished someone would. The pain in his chest was reaching an agonizing peak, feeling as though someone had stabbed him straight through the ribs with a thorny knife and twisted slowly. His entire body shook and trembled, and tears spilled out of his eyes as his airways closed up, unable to draw in air, causing white and black spots to dance across his visage.

Then came the horrible coughing, wet and strangled and not relieving him no matter how hard he wheezed and tried to control himself. Curling over and leaning on one hand, he dug his nails into his chest, wanting to simply rip out his heart so he wouldn’t have to suffocate, but he only succeeded in making it hurt more. 

The pain reached a searing intensity, and Joshua wanted to black out from how much it hurt. He felt the petals in his throat and tasted metal in the back of his mouth, and he grabbed at his neck, weakly trying to force them up. 

There were several horrifying moments where he couldn’t breathe at all and the pain burned white-hot in his chest, and he thought for a second that he was going to die right at that moment, but then, with a wet, gross splattering sound, a wad of petals, more than ever before, tumbled out of his mouth, soaked in red. 

The pain subsided quickly and his airways cleared, leaving him gasping for breath, still curled up on his knees, body heaving and quivering as he slowly registered the fact that he was still alive. He looked down at the petals after a moment, and his eyes widened when he saw drops of red fall from his still-open mouth and land on the grey carpet. The petals were damp with it, sitting still and innocent as though they’d been laying there long before he walked in. 

He’d started to throw up blood along with the petals. For a sick, twisted moment, he appreciated the aesthetic; red on red, something straight out of a vampire novel. 

Then, with a quiet, terrified noise, he sat back, hugging his knees close to his chest, hating the taste of blood and iron in his mouth. He couldn’t even look at the petals. For a while, he simply sat there and trembled, debating on what to do. More tears, hot and wet, dropped down his cheeks, and he wiped them away roughly, sniffling a little. 

He had to go home. He couldn’t stay at school when his lungs were forcing up bloody petals. With another weak sniffle, he picked up the petals and cleaned the blood off of the carpet the best he could (a faint red stain still remained but he doubted anyone would see it). He shoved the petals into his pockets, not wanting to leave them in a trash can where they could get found and investigated.

He was glad lunch was still going on, since it meant the hallways were relatively empty. Opening the door slowly, he peeked his head out, breathing a silent sigh of relief then immediately regretting it when his sore chest ached at the motion. Closing the door behind him, he didn’t notice someone coming up behind him until he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Despite its gentleness, he still jumped violently, whirling around to look at the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

“Seu-Seungcheol!” His eyes widened in fear. He wanted to leave, wanted to run, wanted anything but to have to face the older after what had just torn its way up his throat less than five minutes ago. 

“Hey there, don’t be so jumpy,” Seungcheol chuckled, a bright smile on his face. However, his smile fell almost comically quickly once he took a better look at Joshua’s face, and, eyebrows furrowed, he pulled the younger close.

“Shua, were you crying? Are you alri-” His eyes widened before he finished his question, and he grabbed Joshua by the shoulders, looking alarmed and afraid. Not nearly as afraid as Joshua was though. Especially because Seungcheol was staring at his mouth, fear glinting deep in his black eyes.

His breath hitched and nearly stopped again when the older slowly raised a hand, ghosting his thumb over Joshua’s lower lip. For a long moment, Seungcheol was silent, thumb stroking his lip slowly, almost of its own volition. 

“Were you...coughing up blood?” His breathless question, full of protective horror, made Joshua’s insides curl up even more, the flowers in his lungs delighting in his torment and growing faster, demanding to spread and see the sunlight outside of his body.

“Joshua? Answer me,” Seungcheol said, voice quavering as he shook the younger's shoulder lightly. Joshua knew that no matter how good his silver tongue was, he wouldn't be able to lie his way out of this one.

“...Maybe?” he answered weakly, shrinking back. Seungcheol stared at him for a moment, then pulled him into a protective hug, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Dear god, we need to get you to a doctor right now, fuck school, you’re not ok, I hope it’s not fatal,” he was mumbling, half to himself as he unknowingly spurred on the ache in Joshua’s heart. To be held by the older with such kind and caring arms, while knowing that he couldn’t hug Seungcheol back, hurt him more than the flowers. He bit his lip roughly to stop a sob from escaping him, instead lightly pushing Seungcheol away. He didn’t want to go to a doctor, he already knew what was wrong with him; no, he really wasn’t ok; yes, it would be fatal. But he was willing to make that sacrifice.

“It’s- I’ll be fine. I already scheduled an appointment yesterday. It’s not that bad, I promise…” A lie, but a believable one at least.

“Shua, if you’re coughing up blood, I’d say that’s pretty serious,” Seungcheol said, voice strained and almost hysterical. His grip on the younger’s shoulders was starting to get painful, and again he pulled Joshua close to his chest with a shaky exhale, as if by holding him in his arms he could protect Joshua from whatever was hurting him.

All Joshua could do was try not to cry. He patted Seungcheol’s head with a trembling hand, pushing him away again but not as much.

“How long has this been going on? Are you ok? Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me or Hannie?” His eyes flicked between Joshua’s, desperate for an answer, one Joshua couldn’t give him honestly.

“...I knew you’d react like this, and I didn’t want to worry you guys. I figured you have enough on your plate without me adding to that.” A half-truth, a white lie he could keep up. He didn’t want to burden them.

“Shua, you’re our best friend, we love you, we wouldn’t just ignore you! This is- this is serious!” Seungcheol’s voice rose into a distressed pitch, almost shaking him back and forth. Joshua felt that distress echo in him ten times over. They loved him, he knew that, but just...not in the way that would help him. Fighting down another strong urge to cry, he shook his head, unable to look at the older.

“I’ll be fine, Seungcheol, don’t worry,” he mumbled, feeling oddly caged in his arms. 

“No Cheol? No Cheolie? This really is serious,” Seungcheol said in a weak attempt at humor. The truth was, Joshua didn’t feel like he was worthy of using the nicknames. They were Jeonghan’s little endearments, and suddenly, saying them felt wrong.

“...I just wanna go home,” was all he whispered in response, gaze locked on his shoes. He couldn’t fight anymore; the petals in his lungs were crawling up again, and he would kill himself before the flowers did if he threw them up in front of Seungcheol.

“...Alright. We can do that. Do you want me to drive you?” With a hand between his shoulder blades, he led the younger down the hallways, casting more concerned looks at him every now and then. 

“No! No- no, it’s ok, you should stay here. I’ll be ok.” The more he said it, the less ok he actually felt.

“At least let me walk you home. Please, Shua, I don’t want you to be alone, not while you’re coughing up blood.”

“ _Blood and petals,_ ” he wanted to correct, but he didn’t. He simply stayed silent, nodding and letting the older lead him out of the doors. Seungcheol’s hand never left his back, keeping him grounded with a touch so tempting and kind and yet so simply platonic that Joshua wanted to scream. Seungcheol wasn’t taking care of him out of romantic love, but only because he was worried for a friend. That was it.

When they got to his house, Joshua placed a hand on Seungcheol’s chest, gently holding him back.

“I don’t want you to get sick too,” he explained softly at the older’s concerned look. “Don’t- don’t push it, Seungcheol, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“But-” Seungcheol cut himself off, falling silent. He inspected Joshua carefully, eyes roving up and down his frame, and Joshua felt bare beneath his gaze. He shrunk back a little, but Seungcheol suddenly tugging him into a hug was not what he expected next.

“Go to a doctor soon, ok? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Again, the younger’s chest twinged at his words, but he nodded.

“I will. Just...go back to school. I’ll be here if you want me,” he mumbled, trying not to think that Seungcheol and Jeonghan _didn’t_ want him. Seungcheol’s arms lingered around him for a moment before he nodded, pulling away and patting his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later then, I guess. Want me to swing by tomorrow? I’ll bring you anything you want, anything you need-”

“It’s _ok_ , Seungcheol, really,” Joshua laughed weakly, feeling his lungs protest at the action. He saw the older’s lips tilt into a small smile and he momentarily felt better. He didn’t like making anyone sad, especially Jeonghan or Seungcheol.

“Well, you have my number, don’t hesitate to call me or Hannie if you want us, ok?” Joshua nodded, but his heart wanted them so badly already it was a wonder no one had noticed.

“Oh- and...please, don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want them to worry,” he added in a soft voice, hanging his head. Instantly, Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but Joshua shook his head sharply, not looking at him.

“Just- please, Cheol,” he mumbled, and the use of his nickname seemed to sway him, because Seungcheol said nothing else.

“...Alright. But I’m here for you, Shua, ok?”

“...I know,” he sighed, managing to send a weak smile in the older’s direction. His body felt even more disoriented than usual, and Seungcheol’s face was a little fuzzy around the edges. Then he remembered something, and after dropping his backpack on the ground he held out Seungcheol’s coat to its proper owner.

“I accidentally forgot to give this back yesterday, so I thought you might want it-”

“Keep it,” Seungcheol said instantly, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “If it keeps you warm then it’s yours. Don’t argue, just take it,” he chuckled weakly, seeing a protest form in the furrows of the younger’s brow. Joshua said nothing for several seconds, then shrugged, folding the coat over his arm and looking down at his shoes.

Seungcheol seemed to struggle with himself over something for a minute before he snagged Joshua’s wrist and tugged him into a last hug, flashing him one of his best, brightest smiles before waving and running off, leaving Joshua feeling both warm and cold and also very, very alone.

* * *

The instant he stepped inside, it was a slow, painful process of coughing up more of those damned petals. And more blood. There wasn’t a lot, thankfully, but the way it sometimes dripped down his chin made him feel dirty and disgusting and _diseased_ (which he was, technically, but that was beside the point), made him feel untouchable and not in a good way.

He spent the majority of his time at home in the bathroom, doing all his work on the cold, hard tiled floor so he didn’t get blood everywhere. It was extremely uncomfortable after a while, but he didn’t get up.

He felt worse when his phone started going off, buzzing almost constantly for a couple minutes before he finally opened it to find a flurry of worried text messages from Jeonghan and the others. Seungcheol had said nothing and for that, Joshua felt a little grateful, but he still had to explain why he’d left. All he gave up was that he hadn’t been feeling well, brushing off their other concerned questions with simple answers. 

He also didn’t ask them to help him. He couldn't. If they saw the petals, they’d ask, and if they asked, he’d have to explain everything from the beginning, and he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t ruin things; they were fine the way they were. If he told them, everything would come crashing down. They would all judge him, Jeonghan and Seungcheol would hate him and avoid him and never talk to him again-

He turned his phone off quickly, feeling his hands begin to shake another wave of petals clogged up his throat. It hurt just as bad as the first time, leaving him crying and shaking and gasping. Whining softly from the back of his raw, abused throat, he curled up, hugging his knees to his chest tightly. 

At the moment, all he wanted was for Jeonghan and Seungcheol to show up and kiss him better, love him tenderly so the flowers would wilt away from his lungs and allow him an easy breath of air for once.

But they wouldn’t do that, and he knew that. So he simply sat there, hearing his phone go off a couple more times but not picking it up. For an hour, he sat in silence, listening to his own ragged, pained breathing and little sniffles.

When he finally stood up, his entire world tipped to the side, nearly sending him crashing to the floor again. He had to grab onto the counter to hold himself up, and even when he did, his vision didn’t clear for several seconds, leaving him worried and unsteady and confused. 

Trying to take deep breaths was difficult, but he managed to take a few shaky steps forward, out into the hallway, where he leaned against the wall unsteadily. Clearing his throat aggressively (it didn’t work very well; the uncomfortable tickle still lingered), he grabbed a glass of water and plopped down on his couch, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. Staring up at the ceiling, he sighed again, counting the small imperfections in the plaster. 

He closed his eyes. As much as it was hurting him, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Every thought of them was another petal, every foolish wish another drop of blood. He looked down at his hands where his fingertips were stained with red, and he folded them so they wouldn’t shake as much. He could feel his whole body quivering, trying to reject the flora in his lungs. He tried to distract himself, but more petals and more blood came later. He knew school was out by then, judging by his phone’s sudden, constant buzzing, but he was too tired and too lazy to get up to check it. 

He didn’t really have a choice when loud knocking sounded at his door, and he groaned weakly, standing up unsteadily. His vision swayed from side to side momentarily before he grounded himself, shaking his head a little. Checking himself in the bathroom mirror, he wiped away a trail of spit and blood that had dribbled down his chin, feeling disgusted with himself. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to make himself look more presentable before slowly making his way to the door.

He winced when he saw who it was through the peephole. All of his friends were gathered there, looking concerned, and in Seungcheol’s case, slightly guilty. He hesitated to open the door, wondering what would happen if he simply didn’t answer, but Jeonghan stepped up, knocking again and looking so distressed that Joshua had to open the door.

“...Hi guys,” he mumbled, voice raspy. He only opened the door a little, not really wanting them to come in. All his hopes of keeping them isolated were shattered when Jeonghan pulled him into a tight hug. Too tight. It forced the already limited amount of air from Joshua’s lungs, and weakly he pushed the older away, coughing roughly.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god, Joshua are you alright?” He just waved a hand, forcing the petals down and taking shallow breaths.

“I’m- I’ve been better,” he managed to say, shooting them a feeble smile. It didn’t seem to reassure them. “Why- why’re you all here?”

“We’re here for you, Josh,” Hansol said slowly, looking worried and confused. “We heard from Seungcheol that you left because of felt sick, so we wanted to check up on you…” Joshua gave him a reassuring look, but his gaze became slightly accusing as he turned to the oldest, who merely shrugged and mouthed a silent “I’m sorry, had to”. 

Joshua sighed. “Well, as you can see, I’m mostly ok. You guys don’t need to baby me, I’ll be ok. And I don’t want you to get sick, so you all should probably scoot.”

“Why? We shouldn’t leave you alone when you’re sick, we don’t want it to get worse,” Chan protested, and as fond as Joshua was of the youngest, he shook his head.

“If you get sick, then that’s my fault and I‘m not going to be responsible for you missing classes.” He felt a hand around his and looked down to see Jeonghan playing with his fingers, looking concerned and a little anxious. The sight made him smile a little before the flowers in his lungs twisted, making him jerk his hand away to cover a cough.

“Joshua? Joshua, are you ok? See, this is why we need to help you!” He felt a hand on his back, guiding him into the house, but he moved himself away, shaking his head even as his throat burned and blood bubbled in his mouth. Suddenly, Seungcheol was there, shooing Jeonghan away and shutting the door behind them. Just the two of them.

He didn’t want Seungcheol to see him like this. He didn’t want Seungcheol to see the petals, the blood, the awful combination of both that were the reasons why he was at home in the first place. 

“I’m calling a doctor, Shua, this is serious,” Seungcheol said in a shaky voice, and that snapped Joshua out of his haze enough to drag in a breath.

“No! No, don’t, please,” he begged, clinging weakly to Seungcheol’s arm. Before he could say any more, the coughing came back, and he stumbled away, locking himself in the bathroom and hunching over the sink. With an awful retching noise, the pristine white porcelain became splattered with his blood and rose petals and thyme flowers. He spat out the metallic substance remaining in his mouth before gulping in air, closing his eyes and focusing on calming his racing heart. When he was done cleaning himself and the sink off, he sunk against the door, hiding his head in his hands. 

A soft knock made him jump, but he didn’t get up.

“Joshua? Answer me, Shua, please, are you ok? I- I didn’t call anyone but everyone’s really worried, I can’t hide this from them forever and neither can you...tell me what’s wrong, Shua,” he pleaded, and Joshua curled up further at the hurt and fear in his voice. 

“I can’t,” he whispered.

“What was that? Shua, please, you’re scaring me, are you ok??” Panic started to seep into the older’s voice, and Joshua managed to speak a little louder.

“I’m- I’m fine, just...just go, please,” he called, and he knew his voice sounded awful.

“I’m _not_ leaving you here alone, Joshua, no fucking way,” Seungcheol said, sounded determined but also a little terrified. “Now open the door and let me help before I break it down.” Joshua didn’t move for several moments, fighting with himself.

“Joshua, please, let us help you!” That was Jeonghan’s voice, suddenly there, and a chorus of worried agreement told him the others must have come in. He curled into himself further, firmly making the decision not to open the door. He didn’t want them to see him; too many people, too many questions, too many flowers, it all was too much. He just wanted to go back to the time where he could pine after the older two in peace. 

He distantly heard Seungcheol saying something outside the door, but it was too quiet for him to hear very well. All he got was a few words, mumbled here and there: “...overwhelming...better if it’s just us...stay outside...we know…” then silence. For both a blessed and cursed moment, he thought they’d left. He didn’t want to be alone, but he also didn’t want anyone to see him coughing up blood and petals. He didn’t want the questions that would come with it.

“Shua, it’s just me and Cheol, please, let us in, we’re scared for you, let us help you,” Jeonghan murmured softly, and Joshua let out a small sniffle, feeling tears sting at his eyes and more petals stir in his chest.

“Joshua, _please_ ,” Jeonghan begged, and Joshua buried his head in his knees, letting the tears flow out silently. They were the last people he wanted right now, and also the ones he wanted the most. But he couldn’t let them see him. He couldn’t. By that point, his heart hurt but not just because of the flowers. Jeonghan sounded _afraid_ , and he was the reason why. He heard the doorknob jiggle in it’s socket and he froze up, fingers digging so hard into his arms it hurt. 

“Please- don’t- don’t come in,” he forced out shakily, voice unsteady and edged with a sob.

“Ok, ok, we won’t come in, but can we stay? What do we tell the others? Just...give us something, Shua, anything.” Seungcheol’s voice was just as shaky, and he sounded desperate for something to do, some way to help. 

_He can’t help. No one can_ , Joshua thought bitterly. Taking as deep of a breath as he could while still curled up, he thought for a moment on what to do. Obviously, he couldn’t play it off as allergies anymore, not when he was coughing up blood, but he had no idea what to tell them, honestly.

“Please, just...leave me alone for a bit,” he finally asked, voice so soft he thought the other two wouldn’t hear him. Surprisingly, Jeonghan answered.

“...We’ll stay nearby. If you want us, just knock on the door. You don’t have to open it, but if you start coughing again we’re gonna come in no matter what, ok?” His words were gentle and sad, and Joshua hummed a rough acknowledgement. He heard footsteps, but they didn’t move too far before they stopped. He gathered they’d sat down in the hallway.

Joshua sighed quietly. How to even start? He, of course, couldn’t tell them the truth, no matter how much half of him wanted to.

He couldn’t tell them, but he _could_ lie. He could lie and lie and talk his silver tongue off because he knew how to. If we wove truth with his lies- small lung problem, got aggravated in the winter, made him dizzy and lightheaded- then it’d be even easier. Formulating his words carefully, he dried his eyes roughly and stood, checking himself in the mirror to make sure no more blood tainted his lips. There was a drop glistening dully on the side of his neck and he shuddered, grabbing a rag and wiping it off before taking a deep breath and steeling himself.

He just hoped he wouldn’t cough up more petals in front of them.

Without knocking, he simply opened the door, discovering he had been right: Jeonghan and Seungcheol were sitting in the hallway, the younger in Seungcheol’s lap, being held tightly. They both looked up at his appearance, and instantly Jeonghan flew out of Seungcheol’s lap, hands fluttering over him but not touching him, as though Jeonghan was afraid to break him. Joshua was half grateful, half disappointed.

“Shua oh my god, I was so scared, please tell us what’s wrong, we want to help you,” he said desperately, and Joshua fought back the spike of pain in his chest.

He couldn’t tell them.

So, he took a deep breath, and let a lie flow out of his mouth, just steady enough to sound believable.

“I already told Jihoon, but I kind of have a lung problem. I’ve had it since birth and usually it’s never this bad, but it acts up when it’s cold outside and since this winter’s been pretty cold I think it’s only natural.” He shrugged off-handedly, not looking at them. He felt dirty for lying, stained compared to their bright, clean light, but he couldn’t taint them with his blood-stained flowers. “This is the first time I’ve coughed up blood though, so that’s...somethin’ different. I already called my mom and a doctor, so don’t worry about it more than you already have,” he added, because Seungcheol had opened his mouth. To his slight satisfaction, the older closed his jaw, but he still looked unhappy.

With a long sigh, Jeonghan hesitantly pulled the younger into his arms, and Joshua went willingly, ignoring the pain behind his eyes.

“You scared the shit out of me, I thought you were going to die,” he breathed, tucking his face against Joshua’s chest. 

“ _But I am. And I’m so sorry, my love. I’m sorry to both of you. I wish it didn’t have to be like this._ ” He didn’t say his thoughts, only pet Jeonghan’s hair back and sighed softly.

“I’m alright, Hannie, don’t be too worried.” Another lie. Seungcheol huffed out a tired laugh.

“How can we not be worried? You were _coughing up blood_ , Shua. That’s not good.” For answer, all Joshua could do was shoot him a weak smile. Seungcheol looked at him for a moment before smiling back, moving forward to envelope all of them in his arms. 

Joshua was tense. He had no right to relax in their embrace, like he had any right to touch them at all. They were just worried for him because he was their friend, nothing more. They didn’t like him like that and they certainly didn’t love him. The flowers in his lungs reminded him of that fact every second. It was selfish of him to think that maybe they cared about him as more than just a friend.

But he could be selfish for just this once. He deserved it, he thought. He could pretend for just a couple more minutes, lose himself in the feeling of being loved even if it wasn’t real. He could pretend. Pretend they loved him. He could pretend, so he pushed his face into Seungcheol’s neck and breathed deeply, closing his eyes. He felt a hand in his hair and he hummed hoarsely, one hand gripping the older’s shirt and the other moving to find and lace with Jeonghan’s. For several long minutes, they were silent, until Jeonghan pulled away enough to look Joshua in the eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, ok? I don’t want to lose you.”

Those words both hurt him more than he could ever hope to articulate and made his heart feel light and happy.

“No promises,” he shrugged, voice soft. It was all he could offer. Jeonghan huffed out a feeble laugh, wrapping his arms more tightly around Joshua’s chest.

“I’ll be ok,” he mumbled, eyes fixed on the older’s bleached-blond hair, beautiful as ever. 

“You better be,” Seungcheol murmured, and Joshua’s eyes turned to him. His gaze was kind, almost more than familial, but Joshua refused to let himself hope. Even as Seungcheol’s hand fell from his hair to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his skin gently, and the warmth in his eyes made his chest feel bright, he didn’t let himself hope. Hope would only hurt them all more. But still the words left his lips.

“I hope I will be.”

* * *

When they left, he couldn’t sleep, too busy throwing up copious amounts of petals. Every time, drops of blood reddened his hands, running watery with his tears, which stained the bathroom tile as much as the blood.

Burying his face in his hands, he sighed in a wheezy sort of way, chest hurting as he drew in a stuttered breath.

He looked at himself in the mirror after a while, taking in his disheveled appearance. Again he wondered why the older pair would ever even like him at all. Then he slammed his palms on the counter, leaning towards the mirror, eyes wide and wet with tears.

“ _They will never love you,_ ” he whispered to his reflection firmly, even as his voice shook and more tears spilled uncontrollably from his eyes. “They- they will never love you,” he repeated in an even softer voice. Again and again he said the words, casting a curse upon himself until he believed the short mantra. And he did. He knew they would never care for him that way.

And who would? He was quiet and weak and boring and skinny and awkward and ugly and-

He sunk to his knees again, sobs cutting off his repeated words of denial.

For the second time, he cried until he couldn’t anymore, but he didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. The ache in his chest, the cruel pain, kept him awake.

He was suffering from his own love, but he didn’t care. If it was Jeonghan and Seungcheol, then so be it, he thought.

“ _I see the end of myself in your eyes and I cannot look away._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway there but lmao things are just gonna get worse from here
> 
> And, more importantly, #BLM  
> I hate to spoil the mood, but there have been terrible things happening lately, and George Floyd deserves justice. Be safe, be aware, and be active. It's 2020; we shouldn't still be dealing with shit like this. Please give your support and speak out against police corruption.


	6. Day 5: Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY  
> STREAM MYMY

After a night that felt like it had dragged on forever, Joshua lifted his head, which felt heavy and clogged with fuzz. He knew instantly that he wasn’t going to be able to show up at school, and for that he was grateful that it was the weekend. Through bleary eyes, he watched the sky grow lighter in the bathroom window. When he knew he wouldn’t question him for being up so early, he grabbed his phone, sending Jihoon an apologetic text telling him he wouldn’t be able to hang out and asking him to tell the others as well. Jihoon’s only reply was a “k.” and nothing else. Once again, his eloquence brought a faint, amused smile to Joshua’s lips, though it quickly fell back into a blank sort of frown.

A dry cough rattled his lungs, and he took in a wheezy breath, standing up on shaky, unsteady legs to grab a glass of water. He stood there for a long time, eyes closed and throat raw. The ache in his chest had eased slightly, but only just. 

He was so tired. Keeping his eyes open was harder and harder, and eventually drowsiness won over the pain in his chest. So, on shuffling feet, he dragged himself to his bed, stripping down to his underwear and burrowing under the soft covers. He took a moment to enjoy the silky feel of the sheets against his back, but less than five minutes later all his thoughts fuzzed out, and he sunk willingly into a shaky, restless sleep.

He dreamt of many things. Of flowers and blood and pain, but the worst (or maybe the best, he didn’t know), were the ones with Jeonghan and Seungcheol. The ones where they’d be sitting on either side of him, hands running over his body, teasing and touching and lavishing his skin with attention until he was ready to beg for them. Where they’d whisper sweet, naughty praise into his ears, fingers wandering lower and lower until Jeonghan, bold as always, would be the one to finally tug his boxers down and wrap his pretty, pretty fingers around his already hard co-

He always woke up in the middle of those dreams, right before one of them really got started. It left him shaking and gasping, body uncomfortably hot and tingly and mind filled with embarrassed guilt. He could never bring himself to finish what his dreams started, but damn if part of him didn’t want to.

But the guilt and disappointment always won, coldness creeping over the heat and forcing tears to his eyes. As much as his subconscious wanted that, as much as he craved their touch like oxygen, he would never get that. It was hard enough to actually get oxygen into his lungs; trying for their love would be impossible and unrealistic.

As tired as he was, he could never fall asleep quickly after such dreams. They left him almost anxious, nightmares disguised with fleeting touches and honeyed voices, whispering praise into his ears that made his heart beat quicker.

He usually cried after them too.

* * *

Finally, after rolling around in his bed for a while, unable to catch a solid few hour’s worth of sleep, he sat up, no more rested than he had been in the morning. He drew his blanket tight around his shoulders, wiping the dried tears from his cheeks with a sigh. He felt drained, flat and empty even while his lungs grew clogged with petals. 

A text pinging his phone jolted him out of his daze, making him turn and shuffle sluggishly to the edge of his bed to pick it up off of the top of the dresser. A faint smile touched his lips when he saw Jeonghan’s name pop up on his screen, asking him if he was ok. He sent back a gentle reassurance, saying he was just catching up on some rest for the day. Jeonghan was quick to respond, eagerly urging him to get more sleep and call if he needed anything.

Joshua acknowledged him with a simple smiley face, but once he was done with that he put his phone down and sighed again, knowing that no matter what, he wouldn’t be able to have a sound sleep.

Well, if he wasn’t going to sleep, and doing his school work was pointless seeing as how he wouldn’t need to very soon, he got up, deciding he might as well take care of the flowers on his balcony. He had a nice collection of snowdrops, along with pansies and crocuses and a couple cyclamens that added a pop of color to the otherwise muted tones of the garden. He, oddly enough, took some comfort from the easy, menial task, distracting him momentarily from the same garden in his lungs.

He tried to hum under his breath as he stood in the cold winter air, but his throat was far too worn and no words would come, much less a coherent melody. He coughed weakly and went back inside, the air too sharp for his sensitive lungs. As he breathed in the warm air of his home, he picked up on hints of rose and thyme, and grew disgusted with himself once again. 

At the moment, more than sad, he felt angry. Angry with himself. Angry at the flowers. Angry at his fate. How could he have let this happen to him? How could he have fallen so deeply in love with the only two people who had such power over him? They knew everything about him, knew every way to break Joshua, and he would let them, but there was one thing they didn’t know and he was angry at himself for giving them his weakness. He could never be angry at them, but he could be angry at himself, for allowing himself to sink to such levels as to think that he could have ever possibly had a chance with them. It was impossible, he knew that. But still he pined.

And now he was reaping the fruits of his unrequited love: hundreds of petals and droplets of blood, shaking hands and a painful lack of oxygen in his lungs. It was his fault and he knew it, his fault that he fell in love, his fault that he had a garden in his lungs, his fault that his apartment and whole body smelled like those _damned flowers-_

He sighed a wheezy sigh, leaning his head in his hands. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it anyway. He simply had to accept it.

So he made himself move, picking things up and cleaning the little apartment he called home. Since he kept himself neat, there wasn’t much work to be done, and less than an hour later he was back in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with nothing to do.

Being sprawled out on his couch with nothing to do might not have been the best option because with nothing to distract him, his thoughts turned (as they always did in the end) to Jeonghan and Seungcheol. 

It started small. Little fantasies here and there when he closed his eyes, an imaginary whisper in his ear when he zoned out, nothing too detailed. Then the feeling of phantom hands on his hips, holding him and wrapping around his back and hugging him close out of something more than platonic affection. The faint feeling of lips ghosting across his cheeks and neck, fingers twining with his own. He closed his eyes and he could almost see it: Seungcheol leaning forward to kiss him sweetly while Jeonghan held him from behind, murmuring fond words to him.

It was a delicious, painful fantasy, one that left his eyes stinging and watery even as he imagined Jeonghan’s teeth at his throat, nipping gently and whispering praise. Even as he imagined Seungcheol pinning him to a wall, a smirk curling his perfect lips. Even as he laid there, eyes closed and mind lost in countless impossible scenarios, it hurt him. The sweet things he wished for them to whisper to him made his chest tighten and ache and only increased the pain in his throat.

And with every new thought, it brought up more petals and more blood until he felt dangerously light-headed and dizzy, kneeling on the bathroom floor, staring at the tiles below him. Red splatters appeared in his blurry vision as he panted, and, dragging in a painful, shuddering breath, he stood up to get a rag to wipe them away. 

When he looked in the mirror, he paused. He looked even worse than before. He had been coughing up blood and it really showed. His face was paler than usual, but his lips were stained a seemingly permanent red, almost garishly so, like he had put on too much lipstick. A red drop was clinging to the corner of his mouth, rolling down slowly, and with his fingertip he wiped it away, too tired to even feel disgusted. He felt empty.

Then suddenly he laughed. “God, what is wrong with me…” He chuckled dryly, staring down at the drop on his finger, gleaming bright like a ruby. He was so pathetic it was laughable. Suddenly rather emotionless, he let his grim smile drop back into blankness. He ran his finger under the tap until the red disappeared, and he sighed heavily, leaning on the counter, head hanging. His chest hurt; it hurt to even breathe. He felt hazy, not all there, like half of him had been ripped away, leaving a disoriented, wandering shell in its place, searching forever for its missing parts. Searching in vain.

He looked up at himself again, observing his heavy-lidded eyes, dark with defeat and blank with fatigue. Messy hair, sticking straight up from when he’d run his hands through it. Sunken cheeks, a more angular jawline, face less soft than before. His whole body drooped, weighed down by his own emotions. And god, his lips were so red. On Seungcheol, it was hot; on him it looked strange. He looked like some kind of weird ghost, a slightly skeletal creature that wasn’t supposed to exist.

He raised a hand to brush his fingers over his lips. Then he shook his head, ripping his eyes away from the mirror and fetching a rag. After he’d cleaned the blood from the floor, he wiped it from his lips. It worked, but they were still a little stained, a hint of crimson making it look like he was wearing a thin layer of makeup. He hated it, aggressively trying to rub the red from his lips. It didn’t work very well.

He hopped up on the counter and leaned against the mirror, not wanting to look at himself anymore. Especially when he felt tears rise and spill from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks steadily. He couldn’t hold them back anymore, but he clamped his lips down on any sound that wanted to escape, weeping silently. 

The flowers in his lungs hurt. But thinking about Seungcheol and Jeonghan, how they will never look at him and feel _want_ in their hearts, that’s what hurts him the most. He almost can’t handle it, running a hand through his hair for what feels like the millionth time that day, but he can’t do anything about it. All he can do is endure.

* * *

It becomes even harder when the others, Jeonghan and Seungcheol included, show up at his house after school, bearing little gifts and bright smiles, determined to cheer him up. Jun and Soonyoung and Seokmin bring him a bunch of sweet things and snacks he knows he won’t be able to eat without throwing up but accepts anyway. Jihoon simply holds up a copy of a movie he’d been wanting to watch, which made him feel a little better.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan bring him tea and soft smiles, along with gentle hugs and lingering touches that make his skin tingle where their fingers brush over. It makes more petals want to crawl up out of his lungs, but he fights them down.

When they had all made themselves comfortable in Joshua’s small living room, Jihoon put in the movie before scuttling back to plop himself next to Wonwoo. Minghao was perched in Jun’s lap, being showered with attention and being very smug about it. Soonyoung and Seungkwan were giggling about something while Hansol and Chan argued over movie superheroes. Mingyu was on Wonwoo’s other side, trying to get his attention but failing.

Joshua, nestled in between Jeonghan and Seungcheol, felt a little apprehensive. He was almost in Seungcheol’s lap, and Jeonghan leaning his head on the younger’s shoulder didn’t help. He knows they’re just trying to comfort him, just to be there so he isn’t lonely, but somehow he feels even more alone. He feels separated from them, a couple steps behind, watching them but not being able to interact.

It got worse when, during one of the more action-filled parts of the movie, Seungcheol hugged him closer until he was actually sitting fully on his legs, the older’s arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. Jeonghan in turn snuggled closer, linking an arm with the younger and sticking to him like glue.

It should have been normal. It should have just been a gesture of Seungcheol being a scaredy-cat as usual and wanting someone to cling to. But at the moment all of Joshua’s instincts were warring; half of him wanted desperately to sink into his embrace and relax against his chest, and the other half was screaming for him to get away. It left him stiff and uneasy in Seungcheol’s arms, not daring to move in case he upset the flowers in his lungs even more.

“Shua? You alright? You’re really tense.” Even Seungcheol just whispering into his ear made him flinch. “C’mon, the movie’s not _that_ scary, is it?”

“Says the one who literally has Shua in his lap because you need someone to cuddle when you’re scared,” Jeonghan whispered back, amusement in his voice. Seungcheol huffed quietly at his boyfriend, hugging the youngest of the three to his chest in a pouty sort of way.

“Hannie was right, you do smell like flowers,” Joshua heard him mumble into the back of his shirt, and it set off so many red flags in his head that he was amazed he didn’t bolt right there and then. “‘S kinda nice,” Seungcheol continued, and Joshua could only hum hoarsely in response.

“Shh! You three can cuddle ‘n make out later, but not while we’re around,” Seungkwan hissed suddenly, and Joshua felt his face heat up. How tempting that sounded.

But Jeonghan only laughed. “Please, Joshua’s too pure. Kissing him would be a sin. He’s just too soft to taint.” Seungcheol chuckled, humming agreement.

“Yep! Besides, Shua’s just my best friend. Only Hannie gets my kisses.” 

“Shh! Movie now, talk later!” Jihoon spat at them, and with a slightly amused, slightly embarrassed look, Jeonghan and Seungcheol exchanged glances. Seungcheol gave Joshua brief squeeze, probably trying to ease the tension from him, but all could think about were his and Jeonghan’s words, cycling over and over in his mind, making a tingly coldness spread through his body like ice from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Their words, however unintentionally, hurt him like knives, and the blush that had rose to his cheeks fell away, leaving him pale and trying hard to not start trembling in Seungcheol’s arms. He could feel the flowers growing, feel them stabbing into his throat and lungs, relishing in his despair.

He didn’t notice Jihoon or Wonwoo exchange a concerned look, eyes trained on him rather than the screen for a long while after they’d fallen silent.

* * *

When he gets up at the end of the movie, he feels cold, so cold, and shivery all over. With a feeble smile he excuses himself and locks himself in the bathroom, trying his hardest to stay quiet while throwing up more petals until his lips are stained red again and the scent of roses and thyme hangs sickly sweet and heavy in the air. His head spins from both the smell and the lack of air in his lungs and as he sits back, panting, he stares unseeingly at the ceiling, vision blurring and distorting.

A quiet knock on the door startled him into alertness, and with an effort, he stood, wiping the blood away from his mouth with the edge of his sleeve and running a hand through his hair, trying to look at least a little bit presentable.

“Joshua? You alright? I heard coughing…” Jihoon’s voice, unusually worried, made him cringe internally.

“I’m- I’m fine. Just needed to clear my throat,” he called back, voice raspy and low, nothing like his usual honeyed tone.

“...Joshua, can I come in?”

“I promise I’m alright, Jihoon, don’t worry-”

“Please, Joshua, just...I wanna ask you something.”

That made Joshua even less inclined to open the door, but he did anyway, peering through the gap. Before he could question what Jihoon wanted, the younger pushed past him, locking the door behind him again and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“Joshua,” he began very seriously, eyes laced with concern, “are you in love with Jeonghan and Seungcheol?”

The direct question threw him. So much so that he couldn’t even think of a quick lie. All he could do was stand and stare, eyes wide. Was it that obvious? He supposed it was. His sudden change had to have come from somewhere, and Jihoon had always been the smart one.

“So that means you are,” Jihoon sighed, taking his silence as an affirmation. “I thought so.”

“Please don’t tell them,” was all he could whisper, panic starting to set in. If Jihoon put two and two together and found about the flowers in his lungs, he knew things would end badly. The younger would tell Jeonghan and Seungcheol and they’d be so disgusted with him and they’d hate him and they’d never talk to him again or even look at him because of those _damned flowers_ -

“Why not? You’re all pretty close anyway. I’m surprised neither of them have just asked you out already. I mean, from an outsider’s perspective, it already looks like you’re all dating or something. You’re like a very weird, super-involved third wheel. I think it’d be nice for all of you,” Jihoon said mildly, waving a hand. Joshua shook his head emphatically.

“Didn’t you hear what they said?” He knew he sounded a little desperate, almost as if trying to convince himself that Jihoon’s words weren’t true.

“They might have been joking,” the younger shrugged, but Joshua could see the doubt starting to grow in his eyes. When the older continued to say nothing else, he sighed. “Ok, maybe we’ve got some thick-headed idiots on our hands. Why don’t you just tell them? At least then you’d get a proper answer-”

“Jihoon, that would kill me,” he said quickly, cutting the younger off. He fought the urge to add in a “literally” at the end of his sentence. It was already killing him. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

“Ya, don’t be a coward. I’ll tell them for you if you won’t-”

“Jihoon. Please. Don’t.” His voice turned harder, resolute with defeat. He didn’t look at the younger but he knew Jihoon was taking him seriously.

“...Alright. I won’t, I promise. But I’m just saying...maybe things will go alright if you tell them.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head. Jihoon kicked his shin gently, clicking his tongue.

“C’mon. Have some faith in yourself. I’ll be outside.” With that, he hopped off the counter and left, leaving Joshua somehow feeling even worse.

* * *

Jeonghan stared worriedly at Jihoon as the younger disappeared into the bathroom. After Joshua had suddenly stood up from Seungcheol’s lap at the end of the movie and walked off with a mumble about needing to go to the bathroom, even his boyfriend’s clinginess hadn’t made him smile as it usually did. It made Jeonghan anxious. Something was definitely wrong with his previously sunshiney Shua.

He was much too pale. His already fair skin had a sickly tint to it, almost dead-looking. His eyes were dull and his movements slow, careful as though he didn’t want to bump into things. And were his lips always so red? Was his body always so twiggy?

Needless to say, his protective instincts were pinging. Joshua had been his best friend for years upon years, and if the younger needed his help then he would give it. He couldn’t bear to think about something happening to his soft, precious Shua.

He worried if it was somehow his or Seungcheol’s fault. Joshua had seemed to be avoiding them, skirting away from their touches and remaining stiff when they managed to get an arm around him. Anxiously he ran over what he’d done in the past few weeks, racking his memory for anything he might have said or done to offend the younger somehow but nothing stood out except his normal clinginess.

So when Jihoon walked out of the bathroom, he very near accosted the shorter boy for information, something that, to his chagrin, Jihoon wouldn’t reveal. All he said was a simple “Joshua’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just...pay more attention”, and that hadn’t alleviated Jeonghan’s worries at all. Pay more attention? What the hell did that mean? Did he not already? Heck, he thought he was paying too _much_ attention, and that was the reason why Joshua was avoiding him. Pay more attention, pay more attention, what could he do to pay more attention? He hardly thought he was _ignoring_ Joshua.

In fact he half worried he was seeing too much. He could see every weary line carved into his best friend’s face, not there before, could see the way he didn’t smile as much, and when he did it was brief and forced, and perhaps the part that scared him the most was Joshua’s eyes. He’d never seen someone with such blank, defeated eyes, gaze heavy with resignation and a masked pain that made his own heart hurt. Why? Why would Joshua be that way? What had happened to spark such a drastic, sudden change in his Shua? His sweet, kind Shua, who lit up the world around him with his smiles and brought music with his laughter.

Sometimes he wondered if he was seeing things. But Jihoon’s words just made him more paranoid. So he resolved to look a little closer.

So started with simply observing Joshua. That wasn’t so hard; he just had to look at him. He’d looked a lot at Joshua before, of course, they were friends. And Joshua was nice to look at, all soft around the edges, gentle smiles and baggy, oversized sweaters to compliment his slender frame. 

But recently he’d seemed even smaller in them than usual, and his wrists and fingers were bony where Jeonghan grabbed his hands. His cheeks were slightly sunken and his body slighter, more trembly. Jeonghan himself shivered at the thought of how Joshua always seemed to be shaking a little, legs unsteady and hands racked with tremors. His lips were stark red against his pale face as if stained with blood (a thought that honestly terrified him a little), and he had gained a sort of subdued, reserved sort of attitude that closed him off from other people.

Then there was the way Joshua acted. Stiff and unresponsive in his and Seungcheol’s arms, like he both wanted and didn’t want to be there, like he was fighting himself on either running or staying. How he pretty much bolted anytime he got affectionate with his boyfriend, how he seemed so careful and hesitant around them as if he was always watching what he was saying. The way he almost seemed to be trying to remove himself from their lives like he wasn’t needed. 

Which was dumb. Jeonghan did need him, needed his Joshuji to balance him out. Seungcheol was perfect, all that Jeonghan could ever ask for, but Joshua was perfect in a different way, calmed him down and gave him a listening ear, provided gentle hugs and a clever smirk to match his own.

Jeonghan shivered again. The more he thought about it, the more he realized something was very, very wrong. In his halted words, shaky breaths, the way he never met anyone’s eyes anymore- Something had happened that Joshua wasn’t telling him. More than just his supposed lung problem.

And that scared him more than he could say with words. Even when he felt Seungcheol slide a hand into his, it didn’t ease his worries as much as it normally would have. But it helped a little. And at the moment even a little comfort was helpful.

* * *

Trying to stay positive the whole day was hell for Joshua. He could feel the flowers growing, trying to force themselves out into the open air. It was even worse because he could also feel Jeonghan watching him, the older boy’s stare heavy like a physical presence. Why would Jeonghan be watching him? Did he really look that bad? Well if he looked in the mirror he could definitely see why, but still. Jeonghan had never looked at him like that before, so intensely like Joshua was a cleverly-designed enigma for him to try and figure out.

It made him very on edge. But he was too put off to actually ask about it, so he tried his best to ignore it. That didn’t mean he didn’t notice it.

It reached a peak when Jeonghan suddenly tugged him aside into the hallway, pulling him into a seemingly random, rather uncalled-for hug. Joshua felt a chin being set on his head, arms being wrapped around his back, a soft breath sighed against his hair. He couldn’t move; his body wouldn’t respond. All he could do was stand awkwardly in the older boy’s arms, eyes glued to his chest, nose tickled by the soft, pastel mint sweater he had on. He was very, very aware of their closeness. Too close. Much, much too close for his lungs and his heart to bear. But he, for the life of him, couldn’t muster the willpower to pull away.

“Joshuji,” Jeonghan began quietly, slowly, “is there something you aren’t telling me? I don’t want to sound pushy, but...you’re worrying me. You know you can tell me anything, right? I just want you to be alright.” Oh how those words both hurt and tempted him.

_There’s so many things I’m not telling you that it’s stupid. First off, I have a disease that makes me cough up flowers because of my own unrequited love, second, I only have two more days to live, and third, I’m so fucking in love with you and Seungcheol that it physically hurts but I can’t help myself._

He didn’t say the million thoughts running through his head.

“...What makes you think that?” he said instead, voice soft and raspy. He was glad he was able to keep it steady. He hoped he would be able to speak normally for the remainder of their visit.

Any hope of that was squished when Jeonghan used one of his long, dainty fingers to tilt his chin up, peering into his brown eyes with kind ones, a few shades darker and indescribably beautiful. There was a hint of concerned sadness in them and Joshua’s heart twinged painfully.

“Please, Shua,” was all he said, and the younger fought down the tears screaming to be set free. He couldn’t hold Jeonghan’s earnestly caring gaze anymore, so, like a coward, he tucked his face back against the older’s chest, breathing in the rose scent that had once upon a time drawn him so much.

“‘M fine. Really. Just...tired. My head kinda hurts, but I’m alright.” He felt a gentle hand card through his hair and heard another sigh leave the blond’s mouth.

“...Alright. If you say so. But if you ever need someone, I’m always here. You’re my best friend, Shua, I would never push you away.”

_But you might, if I told you the truth._

“Thank you, Jeonghan,” he breathed, hands reaching up to fist in the front of his sweater. Suddenly his chest felt tight again, and he knew it would be futile to try and get away in time.

So he just let a small sniffle escape him, just a soft, badly-stifled thing, barely there. A shudder ran through his body, accompanying his quiet sniffles, and Jeonghan simply held him, hand running through his hair while rocking him gently back and forth. Joshua could hear words being murmured into his ear, comforting words, but he didn’t _really_ hear them. All he could focus on was Jeonghan, how sturdy and real he was, and at the same time how he was so afraid that Jeonghan would simply slip from between his fingers like mist.

For the first time in a while in front of the older boy, he let his emotions go, letting his walls down in front of Jeonghan because he knew the blond would always be there for him. So when he felt Jeonghan sitting down, he followed, pulled into his lap like a doll, still crying and trembling silently.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok. It’s alright. I’m here. Let it all out, ok? You’ll be ok.” At the use of the pet name Joshua bit his lip hard on a sob, because Jeonghan was only trying to comfort him. It didn’t really mean anything.

“Stop biting your lips, they’re already red,” the blond chastised, using his thumb to carefully pry his lip from between his teeth. “I didn’t know you wore makeup. First perfume and now this,” he joked, and Joshua found it in himself to give a tiny, watery chuckle.

“‘S not makeup. I don’t wear makeup. You know that.” A feeble echo of his words from before. 

“You should; you’d look good in it,” Jeonghan hummed, petting his hair with closed eyes. Joshua felt small in his arms and in his lap, like a child being cradled, but if it was Seungcheol or Jeonghan he was ok with it. He closed his own eyes when he felt a hand carding through his hair, slow and gentle, full of caring, an action that both warmed his heart and made him feel horribly guilty. He shouldn’t be there. He wasn’t allowed to sob into Jeonghan’s chest anymore. He shouldn’t touch Jeonghan, shouldn’t cling to him like he so desperately wanted to. But he couldn’t help himself, so he let out a shuddering sigh and pressed his nose into the older’s chest, still shaking. He felt the petals in his lungs crawling, shifting painfully, but he fought them down.

It got a little harder to ignore when he registered another person appearing to his left.

“Hannie, where’d you- oh.” Seungcheol never finished his sentence. All he did was sit down on Jeonghan’s right side, leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder and petting Joshua’s hair with him.

Joshua felt even worse. He was just being a burden to them. He was worrying them and he shouldn’t be worrying them. Besides, he was supposed to keep his emotions in check.

But he was weak for them, weak and desperate for the comfort they gave him, so he just squeezed his eyes shut and cried quietly into Jeonghan’s chest, lungs tight and throat constricted. No one else appeared and he was grateful for that, but at the same time their solitude made his skin prickle with self-awareness, noting how close they were, how occasionally they would slip in a soft, fond pet name to their comforting words, an “it’s ok, baby” here and a “don’t cry, sweetheart” there.

It hurt because he knew they were empty words. Their efforts to comfort him were genuine, but the nicknames were just for added effect. At least, that’s what he thought he knew.

“Shua, I don’t want to pry, but are you alright? Like, really? You’ve been...off these past few days,” Seungcheol prompted gently, thumbing the tears away from his cheeks. Because Joshua would never tell, he simply nodded.

“Just- just a little overwhelmed, I think. I’m sorry,” he offered weakly, not able to meet the older’s gaze. Jeonghan flicked his ear.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We just want to make sure you’re alright. What’s bothering you? Is it us?” Joshua stiffened in his arms and Jeonghan sighed. “See? You close off all the time when we try to get close to you. Is it something we did? If it is, I’m sorry, Shua, just tell us so we can make it better-”

“It’s not you, it could never be you,” Joshua said quickly, cutting him off. “I’m sorry if I seem weird, I just-” He couldn’t finish. The words wouldn’t come. In all honesty he didn’t know what to say. His silver tongue had finally tarnished and sat thick and uncooperative in his mouth. “I’m sorry,” was all he could choke out. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. A lot of things.

He heard two twin sighs.

“It’s ok, Shua, just...breathe. You don't have to be sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But we’re always here if you need us. We care about you.” He bit his lips again at Seungcheol’s words, oh-so gentle and kind. Another round of tears rose and spilled, staining the front of Jeonghan’s sweater with dark splotches. None of them said anything.

And when Joshua couldn’t cry anymore, reduced to shaky breaths, they dried his eyes and cheeks, cooing soft things, little reassurances that only increased the conflict warring in Joshua’s heart.

“Sorry for ruining your sweater,” he mumbled, looking down at the fuzzy, mint-colored fabric below him.

“You apologize too much,” Jeonghan chuckled quietly, still petting his hair.

“Sorry,” he quipped, just because he could. The response came automatically and the laugh it brought out of both of the elders lifted his heart a little.

“Feel better?” Seungcheol prompted gently, tugging the younger into his lap and hugging him tightly. 

“...A little.” Not a lie, for once.

“That’s good. Everyone gets the big sad sometimes, don’t worry.”

“The big what? Y’know sometimes I worry about your vocabulary,” Jeonghan snickered, whacking his boyfriend’s shoulder. Seungcheol stuck his tongue out at him, hugging Joshua closer.

“You two are incredible,” Joshua chuckled, and he meant it, even if his words were joking.

“You’re sweet,” Seungcheol smiled, flashing one of those bright gummy grins Joshua loved so much. He didn’t even protest against it as he normally would have. He just rolled his eyes, settling against his chest with only a small amount of hesitance. 

Then he remembered that soon, he would never be able to cuddle with them like this again. He would never be able to see them, never be able to keep an eye on them. And when he was gone, he wanted to make sure they stayed together. He didn’t want them to separate because of him. He just wanted them to be happy, and be happy together. In his mind, he formulated carefully what he could say.

“Jeonghan? Seungcheol? Can I...can I ask you a weird question? Well, it’s more of a request, but still.” The words came slowly and he hardly knew what he was saying.

“Of course, flower, what is it?” He tried not to flinch as the cute little endearment fell out of Jeonghan’s lips, but he shifted so he could look into their eyes anyway. He had to make sure, had to get them to promise.

“This is gonna sound really weird, so don’t think much of it, but promise me you two will always love each other, ok? No matter what happens. Even if you fight, remember this promise. I just...I want you two to be happy. So promise me that, ok?” There was surprise in their eyes, coupled with confusion, but they didn’t protest. The older pair simply exchanged a glance and slowly nodded.

“...Alright, we promise,” Seungcheol said slowly. “What brought that about?”

“Nothing. Just making sure,” Joshua shrugged, moving to lay back against his chest. “Don’t think too hard about it. Just remember it,” he repeated softly. Seungcheol gave him a brief squeeze, but didn’t press.

“You’re weird,” Jeonghan chuckled, and for a moment Joshua smiled, feeling more relaxed than he had in the past 4 days.

But of course, the petals wouldn’t stay down forever, and the tender moment was shattered with the cough that suddenly racked his frame, leaving him trembling in Seungcheol’s arms.

“Joshua? Are you alright? Do you want some water?” Abruptly he stood, stumbling a little.

“I’m- I’m ok, don’t worry,” he forced out, turning away and rubbing his palms into his eyes, roughly fighting the coughs trying to claw up his throat. When he couldn’t see them it was a little easier, but holding back the petals was getting harder and harder with each passing second.

But eventually he managed to clear his airways enough to pull in a steadying breath. Not a lot of air, but enough. The hand that appeared on his back almost helped. Almost.

He turned and gave a weak smile despite the agonizing pain that ripped through his torso, and to his tongue came the lie he’d become so good at telling:

“I’m ok.”

* * *

When he walked back to the others, they gave him slightly concerned looks, but he waved them off. No reason to upset them. All he did was simply play along, joke and ignore the stinging ache in his chest.

It was all he could do. He smiled and laughed and suffered in silence because that's what he does. He wouldn't be the reason for their sadness. He wouldn't. He couldn't tell them. So long hours went by and he said nothing. He acted and lied and gave weak but winning smiles and no one pushed too hard. But it still hurt; everyday another petal, everyday a little death. Life was playing with him, he could tell, but he refused to make it into a two-player game. He wouldn't push back, wouldn't lash out at the unfairness of it all. He can't. So all he can do is mask off his hurt and smile, be around his friends but never really _there_. His mind is always elsewhere.

As long as he can see Jeonghan and Seungcheol smile at him, he doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STREAM MYMY IT'S GO FUCKING GOOD I SCREAMED THE SONG IS SO GOOD AND THE VIDEO IS ADORABLE AND THE LYRICS ARE SO POETIC AND PRETTY AND IM LITERALLY BOUTA CRY ITS SO BEAUTIFUL I WOULD GUSH MORE BUT IT WOULD TAKE UP THE WHOLE END NOTE BOX SO I'M JUST GONNA SAY I LOVE IT SO MUCH SO GO STREAM MYMY
> 
> sidenote: ngl I'm a little upset SVT stuff is being shown on the bighit channel, and I'm kinda upset that bighit and pledus have sort of merged in the way they did, especially since SVT work so fucking hard to put out original content and keep it unique, and I know a lot of us carats feel the same way BUT  
> BUT  
> The silver lining is that this is going to get SVT HUGE exposure. HUGE. Bighit is a big-ass company with an enourmous following, and now, all the armies and moas and other fans of bighit's artists are going to see SVT's content a well, or at least the music videos. people who look at bts or txt stuff might start liking SVT content, and they'll get more views and fans! It's not my favorite choice, sure, but at the very least, SVT will gain a bigger following because more people are seeing their stuff. so there's that, I guess
> 
> ANYWAY feel free to yell at me in the comments lmao I know this is long and its painful to see how fucking dense JeongCheol are BUT i think its funny so--


	7. Day 6: On The Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update will be thursday of next week !! I know some of yall are looking for a proper update schedule, and to that I say: 
> 
> this is not the fic for something silly like an "update schedule" lmao

He didn’t sleep much the previous night either, worried that he would suffocate in his sleep or something. His eyes drooped and his body felt even weaker than before, but he didn’t sleep. He knew that if he slept his dreams would be full of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, of their warm smiles, warmer embraces, gentle words whispered to him. His traitorous eyelids still somehow manage to close, and he gets maybe half an hour of sleep over the whole night.

Lying on his bed while morning sunlight filters through his window, he found it hard to move. His body wouldn’t listen. His limbs were heavy and his head pounded, groggy and clogged up with muggy thoughts, dulled and muddy emotions. His vision wouldn’t clear no matter how many times he blinked, so he simply tried to get used to the blurriness of the world.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the pain in his chest to spike, and weakly he rolled over with all the strength he had left, grabbing for a trash can and spilling the contents of his lungs into it. A mildly alarming amount of blood accompanied the petals, glistening wetly in the bottom of the trash can, and he spat out the red liquid from the back of his throat. It hurt, hurt a lot to do anything.

As he groaned quietly and rolled back over, he knew he had one day left. 

_Tomorrow, I’m going to die,_ he thought. Then suddenly he huffed out a feeble laugh, a little bit hysterical. The unfairness of it all, it was just...funny. He knew he was probably going crazy but...he couldn’t help himself. He sort of couldn’t believe it. 

But the ache in his chest remained there, a steady sort of stabbing pain around his heart, and he knew it was real.

“I’m going to die,” he breathed aloud, cementing the words as fact. He felt detached from the phrase, like he was watching the funeral procession of someone he didn’t know. He chuckled another soft, weak chuckle, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. He didn’t sleep, but he felt tired enough to sleep for 10 years and still be ready to nap.

Oh well, he thought. If he couldn’t move, then he was at least going to get comfortable. As comfortable as possible, anyway.

* * *

Jeonghan looked up from his laptop, staring blankly over at the wall. Something was wrong. He felt it in his chest, in his bones, a weird, chilly tingling that put him on alert.

“Jeonghan? Something wrong?” His mother’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and, slightly embarrassed, he shook his head.

“No, everything’s fine.” Ignoring the faint sigh from his mom, he returned to his work, but still the ominous feeling poked at the back of his mind, annoying and persistent and irritating.

When he felt something actually bounce off the back of his head, he almost laughed at the irony of it. He turned to glance behind him, catching sight of his slightly concerned-looking sister. Discreetly he shook his head, waving his fingers in a “forget about it” kind of way.

A hand tapping his laptop made him turn quickly back around, and he shrunk a little under his mother’s gaze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly. 

“Just pay attention and do your homework, Jeonghan, you can fantasize about Seungcheol any other time,” she sighed, and he glared at his sister, who chuckled. Sinking into his chair, he swore to get her back. 

Momentarily, he forgot about the weird, foreboding feeling.

* * *

It came back during lunch. He’d been out eating with his friends, when, in a moment of silence, his thoughts went to Joshua. He had been alarmed (read: terrified) when he’d suddenly started crying while he’d hugged him. All he’d wanted to do was find out if the younger was alright. He hadn’t at all been expecting the seemingly random tears, but he did his best to soothe them anyway. He said anything he could, even going so far as to use little pet names, things he thought might calm him down. They’d sort of slipped out on accident, but he thought they suited Joshua.

It had helped when Seungcheol arrived, but Joshua still seemed like he was holding himself back from just letting them help him, and it worried Jeonghan. All he could do was hold Joshua close, pet his hair and rock him back and forth like when they were still kids and the stress had gotten to his best friend. He smelled strongly of flowers and something metallic, a combination that made Jeonghan’s stomach crawl, but he didn’t let go. 

And his odd, odd request, the promise he’d made them say. He’d sounded so strangely final, like he had been waiting to confirm something. It made Jeonghan paranoid and he didn’t know what to do about it. Thankfully, after that, Joshua had seemed fine, apart from his small coughing spat, though that went away quickly. Joshua had been sick for a week now, and Jeonghan was getting concerned...

And when they’d returned to the others, he noticed Jihoon kept giving them looks, observing the three of them as if looking for signs of change. He’d wanted to point it out, demand some answers from the shorter boy, but he hadn’t gotten an opportunity to. Yet. He was certainly going to.

The part that put him off the most was when they’d left. Joshua had tugged him into a hug, unusually tight, face in the crook of his neck. He’d breathed a soft “goodbye” against his skin, and the words and tingly touch made him shiver. Joshua had done the same to Seungcheol, and the finality of the whole situation scared them. It was like Joshua really was saying goodbye. For good. Which couldn't be true, right? Joshua was always there for him. He couldn’t bear to somehow be parted from his Shua.

So he’d hugged Joshua back, just as tight. But he didn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t. He just pulled the younger close to his chest and sighed softly. He told himself things would be alright.

But still, the lingering unease in his mind took over his thoughts. Something was wrong but he _didn’t know what it was_. It wasn’t even on the tip of his tongue, he just felt...anxious for some reason.

He tried not to let it show. With his usual smirky grins, he covered up the weird, pressing feeling, intending to talk to Seungcheol about it later. He just hoped his boyfriend would understand.

So he wandered off to find him. He found Seungcheol sitting by himself in a secluded part of the cafe they were eating at, his back to Jeonghan, completely focused on something in his hands.

“Cheolie?” he hummed, knocking on the table. Seungcheol jumped, turning to face him quickly.

“Oh, Hannie, hi there. Sorry, I zoned out for a second, don’t know what came over me…” He looked down at his hands, where a half-assembled metal object sat in his palms. He didn’t even try to hide it, just sighed and set it down.

“Is it kinda like a weird, foreboding feeling? Like something’s wrong but you don’t know what?” Jeonghan prompted slowly. Seungcheol pointed at him dramatically.

“Yes, yes that’s it! That’s exactly it! How- how did you know?”

“Cause I felt it too. Makes me anxious,” he shrugged, moving forward to grab his boyfriend’s hand. He played with the older boy’s fingers uneasily, looking out the window.

“Shua’s acting weird,” he mumbled, and the anxious feeling in his chest increased. “He’s just- well you saw it.”

“I know,” Seungcheol hummed, lacing their hands together comfortingly. “We can check up on him today, how’s that sound? Just you ‘n me. We can bring blankets ‘n movies ‘n all sorts of stuff. I’m sure that’d make him feel better.” Only slightly soothed, Jeonghan nodded with a low hum. Then he sighed, leaning heavily on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Will you finally tell me what you’re working on? It’d better be finished by tomorrow,” he chuckled, albeit not feeling very humorous at the moment.

“I got a friend of mine to cut out a whole bunch of pieces and file them down. I’m trying to make a flower and so far it’s going ok. I wish I had three hands though. I thought he might like it. Or he could just use it as a paperweight,” he chuckled, holding up a half-finished silver lily, petals spread wide. The edges were hammered to give the flower some texture, and if he looked closely he could see certain parts were polished and others weren’t, giving a weird sort of intermittent shimmer to the whole piece. 

“It’s very pretty,” Jeonghan nodded, carefully taking it from his boyfriend’s hands. Seungcheol smiled at him, but it fell at the slightly subdued look on the blond’s face. 

“Hey,” he prompted gently, taking the flower back and putting his hands over Jeonghan’s. “It’ll be ok-”

“But what if it isn’t?” He hated the desperation in his voice, hated how he lashed out, but he didn't care. He was scared. Scared for Joshua, who was like a shell of his former self. His eyes flicked between Seungcheol’s, looking into their jet-black depths as though he might find solace there.

“Hey, hey, Hannie, breathe,” Seungcheol hushed, pulling him close. Jeonghan took in a slow, shuddering breath, closing his eyes tightly and letting the feel of Seungcheol’s heartbeat against his chest calm him. A hand ran up and down his back and he felt a little better. “Things’ll work out. I’m sure it’ll pass. I’m here for you.”

“... I know. Sorry for snapping,” Jeonghan mumbled, laying his forehead on the older boy’s shoulder. Seungcheol just made a hum of acknowledgement, still petting his back. 

“It’ll be ok,” Seungcheol murmured after a few moments, pressing a kiss to his temple.

But Jeonghan could hear the faint thread of doubt lacing his voice, and he knew his own eyes echoed the feeling.

* * *

The instant they left the cafe he pulled out his phone and texted Joshua. Over his shoulder, Seungcheol watched him ask if they could come over. The reply came oddly quick, even for Joshua’s standards, as though he’d been waiting for them to ask.

“He says he’s at a doctor’s appointment,” Jeonghan hummed, showing his boyfriend the message. Seungcheol nodded a couple times.

“That’s...good, I guess. Coughing up blood isn’t good for people.”

“No shit,” Jihoon muttered behind him. Jeonghan gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Y’know, you’ve been weird too. You’re being cryptic and grumpy. More so than usual at least. Which is still saying something. Is Soonie pestering you too much? You know he adores you; you should do something about it-”

“It’s not about him,” Jihoon shot, unusually aggressive. Jeonghan and Seungcheol blinked at each other for a second before turning back to the shorter boy.

“What’s your deal, man? If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Seungcheol huffed, brow furrowing. Jihoon rolled his eyes with a world-weary sigh.

“You two are so oblivious sometimes,” he grumbled, brushing past them.

“You said that a couple days ago, what does that _mean_??” Jeonghan huffed, throwing up his hands. “Oblivious to what?? And what was that whole thing with ‘pay more attention’?? Pay more attention to what? Shua? I think I’m worried enough about him-”

“Listen, how does he act around you?” Jihoon cut him off, stopping to turn and look back at them, a hard glint in his sharp eyes. Jeonghan and Seungcheol once again exchanged a look.

“He’s super tense all the time, at least now he is. It’s like he’s trying to hold himself back from something and he looks so sad when you look closely. He gets really flighty when we touch him and he seems super nervous.” Jeonghan wrung his hands together anxiously. Now that he’d said the words aloud, it seemed worse.

“Does that sound familiar? At all? Well, not the sad part, but the rest of it,” Jihoon prompted, and the blond frowned. Familiar? What could possibly be familiar? 

“Does it remind you at all of how someone close to you used to act before you got together?” Jihoon was telling him something very very obvious but still Jeonghan frowned, confused. Something involving Seungcheol and how he acted before they started dating…?

His eyes widened a little. Seungcheol had acted the same way. Shy touches, fleeting smiles, a nervous energy around him. The reluctance to relax around him, the flushes that could cover his cheeks whenever Jeonghan flashed him a smile. The weird tenseness to his body when Jeonghan grabbed his hands or arms. 

“Do you see it now?” Jihoon’s voice was oddly quiet, somber and almost sad. Because he couldn’t quite grasp that concept, Jeonghan forced out a weak chuckle.

“C’mon, Jihoon, this is Shua you’re talking about. He’s pure. I’ve never heard of him liking anyone at all. And I doubt it’s us; he’s my best friend. It- there’s no way that’s true.” Disbelief and surprise colored his tone, but Jihoon kept giving him an even stare, solemn and not at all teasing.

Then he shrugged and turned. “Well if you want to ignore it, be my guest. I don’t think it can get worse than it already is.”

“Jihoon, what does that mean?” Seungcheol’s voice, sharp and suddenly commanding, made even Jihoon pause and turn back around. “What do you mean, ‘worse than it already is’? Is something wrong with Joshua? Do you know?” 

For a second, Jihoon and Seungcheol simply looked at each other with level, even stares, neither willing to relent first. Jeonghan felt trapped between them, like he was watching a silent battle of two titans. They were both dangerously stubborn, so he knew it would be a while before either of them backed down.

Surprisingly it was Jihoon who broke first, turning around and continuing to walk away. “He’s fine. Just...I’m not joking. I don’t know how you didn’t notice earlier,” he mumbled, burrowing into his bright red scarf, something Jeonghan knew Soonyoung had given to him. The thought made a faint smile touch his lips before it fell again. His mind wandered back to Joshua, and what Jihoon had insinuated.

Well how was he supposed to process that information?

* * *

Weak was an understatement for how Joshua was feeling. He couldn’t move, could barely summon the energy to hold up his hands to text. He felt bad for lying to Jeonghan, but there was no way he could let them see him like this. He just hoped they wouldn’t decide to check up on him anyway. For one, he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to get up and answer the door. 

Breathing was hard. It didn’t hurt as much as before, which was nice, but it took a lot of effort and left him light-headed and dizzy. He couldn’t take deep breaths; he watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest, a movement that was barely there, and he sort of felt like he was in a hospital bed. The thought made him chuckle weakly, but it quickly turned into feeble coughing, a pathetic sort of wheezing. The pain spiked in his chest, bringing with it another wave of flowers and blood. The petals scattered and drifted through the air, landing peacefully on his carpet, stained with red in a gruesome work of strange, sacrilegious art. 

The room was heady with the smell of roses and thyme. Whole flowers littered the floor and the bottom of his trash can, rose buds blooming momentarily before wilting, cut off from their life source- his own. He was just surprised he hadn’t passed out, because he knew that if he did, he likely wouldn’t wake up.

And very suddenly that terrified him. He was really going to die. Panic set in, but he couldn’t summon the energy to get up and pace. All he could do was lie there and stare at the ceiling, drowning in his own existential despair. He was really going to die.

He was just going to leave everything. He was going to leave Jun and Minghao and their stupid innuendos and clever smiles and Wonwoo and his hour-long rants on books and Mingyu’s amazing food and puppy-like personality and Seungkwan and Soonyoung and Seokmin’s jokes and loud, happy energy and Hansol’s comforting words of home and weirdly introspective observations and Chan’s defiant sass and Jihoon’s reluctant smiles and-

And he was going to leave Jeonghan and Seungcheol. He was going to leave Jeonghan’s little side smirks and clingy hugs and overdramatic complaints. He was going to leave Seungcheol’s bright gummy smiles and ridiculous laughter and adorably whiny voice. He was going to leave all their warm embraces, all the kind looks they gave him, he was going to leave all of that. He was going to leave his best friends. He was going to leave the two people he loved arguably more than anyone else in the world.

He closed his eyes, feeling tears sting behind them. At least, if he was going to leave, he was glad he got to say goodbye.

* * *

Seungcheol smiled down at the completed metal lily in his hands. To him, Joshua was a lily, pretty and graceful and elegant. The silver petals gleamed in the dim light of his bedroom, and with a satisfied sigh he set it down, leaning back in his chair. Yes, he was quite concerned for Joshua’s strange behavior, but the prospect of giving him the flower lifted his spirits. It made him feel oddly giddy inside.

But at the same time, Jihoon’s words flashed in his head, and his smile fell. The more he thought about it, the more Jihoon seemed to be right. Joshua did seem to be more anxious around him and Jeonghan, but not a bad-anxious, more of a “god-I-really-like-you-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-about-it”-anxious. Then he shook his head. Jihoon was probably just seeing things. _He_ was probably just seeing things. Joshua had never given any indication of liking anyone at all before, so there was no way he’d suddenly change so quickly…right?

That’s what he told himself, but the sinking feeling in his gut that had started that morning only got heavier the longer he sat there.

He shot one last glance at the metal lily. It sat, pure and innocent on his desk, and he drew some comfort from knowing he’d be able to give it to Joshua the next day. They were all going to throw Joshua the biggest party, he wouldn’t even see it coming…

It made him smile. Only a little, but a little was enough for him at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so um  
> don't hold your breath on this one lads


	8. Day 7: La Douleur Exquise (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied you guys get this chapter early
> 
> this chapter is split into two parts; sorry this is so short. next chap will be posted saturday if I can hold myself back for that long
> 
> Also, brace yourselves. :)

“Not coming with you today, is he?” Jeonghan looked up as Jihoon walked up to them, alone. Jihoon gave a kind of off-handed shrug at his question, and Jeonghan sighed quietly. In his hands he held a small box, inside a set of earrings. Since he didn’t have pierced ears, he had a matching ring, something he was already wearing on his right pinky. The earrings were a pale shade of rose pink, and the ring was a pretty kind of early-morning blue; their favorite colors. To say Jeonghan was excited to give the earrings to Joshua was an understatement. 

And when he looked around, he could see the others were excited too, all holding gifts in their hands that ranged from small to suspiciously large (Soonyoung worried him sometimes), chattering happily. Seungcheol next to him had a long, thin box under his arm, presumably holding the lily he’d made. He smiled at his boyfriend, drawing him in for a quick kiss.

“It’ll be a nice surprise for him, won’t it?” Seungcheol chuckled, tilting his cheek out for Jeonghan to kiss him. The blond nodded, leaning his head on the older boy’s shoulder comfortably, eager for any form of solace available to him.

“I hope he feels better,” was all he said, but Seungcheol kissed the top of his head and hummed acknowledgement anyway.

* * *

And the oddest thing was, when Joshua slowly opened his eyes that morning (he hadn’t gotten any sleep, instead just staying in a weird state of hazy awareness while his eyes were closed), he _did_ feel better. In fact, he felt normal. His chest didn’t hurt, his head didn’t spin, and his lungs felt clear. Sitting up was a little strange after not moving for so long, but it was easy, and he took the opportunity to draw in a slow, deep breath, the sensation almost euphoric. He breathed out slowly, putting a hand over his chest and feeling his chest move, apparently clear from blockage.

He was suspicious. So he grabbed his laptop and pulled up a new tab.

 _Day seven symptoms include...a sudden relief, an absence of pain, ease of breath_...of course. He shut his laptop again with a sigh, setting it on the dresser next to him. He was still going to die. But at least he got a small break. That was nice. 

But he knew better than to hope. The flowers wouldn’t just go away. Soon, they would take his life for their own, sap his energy and drain the essence from his being. The flower's vines would crawl up his throat and bloom from his lips in one last beautifully cruel, ironic statement. Even as he thought that, another small coughing fit shook his frame, leaving him trembling a little. His hands ended up full of rose petals and thyme flowers, stained red with his own blood.

As he stared, he grew sort of out of it, almost in a trance. He felt a blankness settle over his thoughts, something that wasn’t his own covering up all his worries. Even as he looked down at the bloody petals in his hands, he felt nothing.

He doesn't know what possessed him to get up and move, but he did. Almost unconsciously, he pulled on some nice clothes: a sweater he'd only worn once or twice; clean white pants; a necklace he'd been gifted; his nicest earrings...and Seungcheol’s coat. As he moved it was oddly fluid, like he wasn't the one controlling his body. He was a puppet, detached from his limbs, simply watching things happen without protesting. He washed the blood off of his hands and lips, brushed back his hair, made himself look nice. He looked ok, looked more...alive. He didn’t even know why he was doing what he was doing; he just let it happen. It was better than being unable to move.

When he walked into the living room he grabbed a pencil and several pieces of paper, sitting down at the table and beginning to write silently. Letters. He was writing letters. Dimly he registered that he was writing them to his friends. To Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Words that flowed out from his heart. An apology and a confession. A reassurance and a farewell. An explanation.

He folded up the letters once he was done, setting them on the table where he knew someone would find them. As his fingertips slipped from the papers, he sighed quietly, suddenly feeling very, very empty. But he didn’t say anything. He simply picked the papers up again, bringing them to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to them. As he brought them away, he saw wet splotches appear on the paper and stain it with dark splatters. He raised his free hand to his eyes and they came away wet, glistening in the dim light. He was crying. When had he started crying? He hadn’t even noticed.

He dried his eyes robotically, setting the papers down. They sat almost artfully on the table, like a scene from a movie. One last note, one last goodbye. His goodbye. 

When he took his hand away, he knew it would be the last time he touched those papers. But he almost didn’t mind, and it was with a weirdly light feeling in his chest that he turned, walking onto his balcony and taking a deep breath of the cold air. It was snowing, he realized distantly. Looking up into the slate-grey clouds, he watched the fat flakes drift down to the ground: cold, colorless petals that the sky coughed up. Was the sky mourning for him? Did the heavens, too, have someone they loved enough to be willing to cough up flowers of ice and rain for? He didn’t know. Maybe his grip on reality was just slipping away.

He tore his gaze away from the sky, instead choosing a clear spot that didn’t have a lot of snow on it and sitting down with a sigh. He leaned back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes for a moment. The ache in his chest was growing again, slowly becoming a dull point like someone was pushing against his ribs, pressure increasing with each passing second. But it didn’t hurt too badly yet.

He still felt oddly floaty and detached, like he was watching the world in slow motion. There was something nice about sitting in the snow by himself. It was quiet and he didn’t even feel cold, not with Seungcheol’s coat wrapping him in its warm embrace. It was almost...peaceful, as he opened his eyes again to watch the snow fall. Even as he stared up at the periwinkle-grey sky, he felt calm, almost disturbingly content. Somewhere in the back of his mind, warning bells flashed, but the rest of him was too absorbed in the fuzzy void clouding his thoughts, dulling his emotions and taking away conscious thought. He let it happen.

He drew in another slow, slightly shaky breath. There was something final in the way that he sighed, something even he was aware of.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the sky and to the snow and to the winter flowers around him. “I love you.” His first words of the day, and the last words he would ever speak. It was almost satisfying, to watch the way his breath fogged up like the words were becoming physical wisps of mist and floating away into the crisp December air, maybe floating away to reach the ears of the ones he wanted to say those words to. He shifted a little to make himself comfortable, closing his eyes and sighing softly.

“I love you,” he breathed again, and tears spilled hot and wet from his eyes, contrasting sharply to the cold hitting his cheeks. They dripped down his chin and into his lap, small crystal beads that lasted only a split-second before shattering into a thousand droplets.

In a sudden moment of self-clarity, he smiled to himself. He wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. It was a selfish thought, he knew, but at least he wouldn’t be in pain much longer. The death that the flowers would bring him was doing him a favor. He knew the others would miss him, and that made him sad, but he hoped the letters would be enough; he was sorry for being selfish, for running away from his pain, but it was all he could do.

He took in another long breath, knowing it would likely be his last. He didn’t mind. The hazy whiteness in his vision was threatening to overtake him, and willingly he let it blanket his mind like the snow, turning his thoughts quiet and removing any trace of worry from him. Even the flowers couldn’t hurt him now.

It felt like falling asleep. Just a little nap. Somewhere deep in his mind he knew that wasn’t true, but he was too tired to care. He was tired. So, so tired. He just wanted to get some rest. 

So he breathed out and fell asleep, as quiet and as peaceful as the snow starting to pile around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	9. Day 7: La Douleur Exquise (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok fair warning: I cried while writing this, so uh...prepare your tissues

Jeonghan drew in a sudden, shuddering breath, feeling tears sting fiercely behind his eyes despite there being no reason for them. He looked down and saw wet spots dot his paper, and discreetly he tried to dry his eyes, confused and concerned. All of a sudden, a feeling of wrongness had risen up in him, along with a sense of despair and fear so strong he’d started crying in the middle of class.

_Something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong what’s wrong I don’t know something’s wrong help me please help me I don’t know something’s wrong wrONG WRONG-_

In his mind, confusion and a weird sort of helplessness warred. Half of him was aware of his weird mood change, but the other half was drowning in its own distress.

“Mr. Yoon? Are you alright?” Eyes wide and still a little stunned, he looked up at his teacher.

“I- I don’t even know- I’m fine,” he corrected, scrubbing the tears from his eyes. “Don’t know why that happened…” Genuinely somewhat perplexed, he looked down at the wet spots on his paper, brow furrowed. Hansol shot him a look from across the room but he didn’t catch it.

“Alright, but if you need to leave, you can...”

“I’m fine,” he said again, but he half didn’t believe himself. Something in his chest _ached_ , burned and stung and filled him with a sense of loss so strong he wanted to start crying again. Something was _wrong_ but he didn’t know what it was. Something was...gone. He felt it. There was a new empty space in his heart, a shelf that previously held something very precious now blank. A part of him had been ripped away and left him squandering in its absence, flailing desperately to try and cling to the faint wisp of...whatever it was.

And it _hurt_. It hurt like hell. The feeling of missing something but not knowing what it was. The feeling of seemingly baseless longing, of grasping at straws, of frantically trying to figure out why his chest suddenly felt like someone had ripped out half of his heart and thrown it away. It felt like someone had taken Joshua or Seungcheol away from him, locked them away to a place where he couldn’t get to them. And by god how that thought scared him. Scared was an understatement.

But he couldn’t do anything about it without looking sketchy, so he simply sat there and festered in his own strange feelings of sudden torment.

He was oddly grateful for Hansol taking his hand gently when class was dismissed. The younger said nothing, but squeezed his hand reassuringly once or twice and he clung back just as tight, desperate for comfort but not sure why. Hansol didn’t push.

* * *

“Baby, are you ok? Hansol told me what happened…” Seungcheol cupped his cheek tenderly, head at a half-tilt as it always was when he was concerned. Jeonghan sighed, raising a hand to cover the older boy’s and leaning his head into the touch. During the gap between classes, his boyfriend had somehow managed to find him and pull him into a brief hug.

“I- I don’t know, Cheol, I really don’t know. I was just sitting there and I was fine, and then I just- it feels like-” He paused, searching for the words.

“Feels like something’s missing now, doesn’t it,” Seungcheol whispered, finishing the sentence for him. Jeonghan’s eyes whipped up to meet his.

“...Yeah, feels like...feels like I lost something important to me. I don’t know what it is but- but it hurts.” His voice dropped as he spoke until he wasn’t even sure if Seungcheol would be able to hear him, but he felt arms wrap more tightly around him and heard a sigh from above him, full of caring and protective sadness. He sunk willingly into Seungcheol’s embrace, feeling his eyes sting again. He knew he probably looked awful even though he wasn’t explicitly bawling his eyes out, but at the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t know how Seungcheol knew what he was feeling, but he didn’t care about that either.

“We can talk about this later, ok? You should go to class. Don’t cry, sweetheart, alright?” Seungcheol pulled away a little, giving him a soft little kiss and petting his hair back. Jeonghan nodded stiffly, chest still pained with residual despair.

* * *

During the rest of the day he couldn’t bring himself to smile and joke as he normally would have. Something still felt off, and he couldn’t ignore it at all. It just sat there in his mind like a great crouching beast, ready to pounce at any moment. Even when his friends tittered excitedly about going over to Joshua’s house and surprising him, he only responded with despondent hums and distracted nods. They gave him concerned looks but his thoughts were elsewhere. Seungcheol held his hand tightly all through lunch.

By the time the final bell rings, his entire body is alight with nervous energy, anxiousness and adrenaline mixing together and making him impatient and unable to stand still. Something was pushing him to go, to move, to find out what was wrong. Because something was definitely still wrong. He just didn’t know what it was. Yet.

They all walked together, and the earring box in his pocket felt heavy, like he was carrying stones instead of silver. It grew heavier and heavier until it almost felt hard to take a step forward. He ignored it.

The sense of foreboding grew when they walked up to Joshua’s door. Most of them were giggling, but Seungcheol and Jeonghan exchanged a worried, uneasy glance. Something ominous loomed there in front of the door, a haunting, lurking sort of thing, a wisp of shadow that wasn’t really there but at the same time had a great presence that put the couple on edge.

Something like panic spiked in Jeonghan’s chest when Joshua didn’t answer after Seungkwan knocked. For a solid 10 minutes they stood there in the snow, shivering a little. After enough time had passed, Minghao spoke up.

“Anyone got a bobby pin or two?” Seungkwan provided and Minghao shouldered his way to the door, twisting the pins and inserting them into the locks. Within a couple minutes, the lock opened with a click and, looking satisfied with himself, Minghao stood back up. When everyone looked at him, he frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna ask,” Jihoon huffed, brushing past him and into the house. They all followed, and the apprehension singing in Jeonghan’s mind only increased for some reason, especially since it seemed like no one was there.

“...Do you think he left or something? Someone text him,” Wonwoo hummed, peeking around. Jun pulled out his phone while the others moved inside, curiously searching for their third-oldest friend.

“...Uh, guys?” Hansol’s voice was quiet but oddly fearful, and, concerned, they looked to him. In slightly shaky hands, he held up a pair of folded-up notes. His face was pale as he looked back at them, and there was confusion and unease in his light brown eyes.

Jeonghan felt his stomach drop. Suddenly all breath was stolen from him and he strode forward, snatching the papers. One of them was addressed to him and Seungcheol, and the fear growing in his chest forced a soft whine out of him, anxious and high-pitched. He felt a hand on his shoulder but he didn’t turn to check who it was. He simply handed the unnamed note to Mingyu and pulled Seungcheol close to him, showing him the neat, familiar handwriting.

Fingers trembling so badly he wasn’t sure if he could keep a good hold on the paper, he opened the note, something in his chest tightening and twisting painfully. As his eyes scanned down the page, they filled up with tears, though he didn’t notice. All he could think about was that one terrible, terrible word: “hanahaki”. A terror he’d never known rose up in him at the mere thought.

And- and Jihoon had been right. Joshua did love him. And Seungcheol. He had for a long time, apparently. And he had been too blind to see it. He had been too blind and Joshua had suffered from his obliviousness. Suffered in a way that scared him to even think about. Because of his selflessness, Joshua had said nothing, and now-

He couldn’t finish the thought. It was too much. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Seungcheol, and some soft, shocked gasps from the others, but he barely registered them. 

“Where- where is he?” he whispered, and the paper fluttered from between his hands, fingers too shaky to hold it properly. Seungcheol caught it and read it again. And again. Several times his eyes ran over the page as though checking for some kind of watermark. 

Jeonghan drifted away from him, searching, searching desperately for Joshua, for his Shua, who was always there with small smiles and gentle words. There was no way he could just...leave. It was impossible. There was no way. That’s what he told himself.

But the pressing feeling of hopelessness and finality in his chest told him otherwise.

And when he opened the sliding door to the balcony, the feeling only grew, and his breath was stolen away from him again. Sitting there, as perfect and as still as a doll, was his Joshua, eyes closed and an almost peaceful look on his face. He looked beautiful, clothes neat and carefully picked-out (he was even wearing Seungcheol’s coat, Jeonghan noticed distantly), one leg pulled close to his chest, the other stretched out in front of him, hands folded in his lap. Jeonghan suddenly was hit with the realization of just how _pretty_ Joshua really was. He looked like he was simply resting, taking a little break from school work. But in his heart Jeonghan knew otherwise.

It was too perfect. He was too still. There was no movement, none at all, no rise or fall of his chest. Though Jeonghan could see his own shallow breaths fog up in the cold air, there was none from Joshua, no hint of breath at all. Though he could see the snow melting on his own hands, it was piling up a little on Joshua’s hair, no body heat left to warm him up. His skin was too pale, his posture too stiff. Everything about the picture-perfect image screamed _wrong_ and Jeonghan knew it.

He dropped to his knees, eyes wide. Distantly, he registered a noise, a high-pitched sound of pure distress, but he didn’t know where it was coming from. His throat felt tight and strained. Was it him? Was he the one making the noise? It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. Instead he crawled to his best friend, tears spilling onto the front of his shirt, melting through the snow that had accumulated there.

“H-hey, Shua. Wake up. C’mon. It’s- it’s cold out here, let’s get inside. You’ll get sick if you s-sleep out here. It’s your birthday. We have to celebrate. C-c’mon, Shua, wake up. This- you should go inside, it’s cold. You’re- you’re gonna get si-sick. Please. Shua. Jisoo. Joshua. J-Joshuji. Wake up, please? This isn’t funny, Shua, qui-quit it.” He reached out to shake the younger’s shoulder, hands trembling so badly that he actually missed the first time. His voice was weak and filled with fake, forced amusement, as though Joshua was just playing a game. 

That was it. That had to be it. It was just a game. Any second now Joshua would open his eyes and smile, laugh and tell him it was just a joke. It was just a joke, that was it, it was just a joke, just a bad joke-

But- nothing happened. Joshua’s head just lolled a little to the side, slightly grotesque like a puppet cut from its strings. Desperation flooded Jeonghan’s chest, heavy and painful, but he didn’t move. He couldn't. He could barely speak for the tears running down his face, but he mumbled non-stop anyways, hoping, wishing that Joshua would hear him.

“Sh-Shua, c-c’mon, wake up, please. This- this isn’t f-funny anymore. We aren’t- we aren’t playing a g-game. It’s your birthday, w-wake up. P-please. For me? For Cheolie? Pl-please, Shua, wake- wake up. It’s- it’s your bir- w-wake up, _please_.” Nothing. No response. A small chunk of snow fell from Joshua’s hair to the floor.

Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders, tugging him away, pulling him back, but with a strength he didn’t know he had, he wrenched himself away with a muffled sob, back to his Shua. His best friend. Joshua was just playing a game, right? There was no way he could actually be- 

It wasn’t real. If he waited long enough, prayed hard enough, it wouldn’t be real.

“Sh-Shua,” he whispered plaintively, shuffling closer. Another soft, heartbroken noise left him and he gathered Joshua’s limp form into his arms, holding him close. No response. Not even when he continued pleading quietly for Joshua to wake up.

Joshua was so cold. His skin was ice to the touch, and the snowflakes in his eyelashes didn’t melt. Robotically, Jeonghan rubbed his back, as though if he tried hard enough to could push some warmth back into his body, push some life back into him. Eventually, his hands stilled, shaking too hard to keep moving, and a loud, broken wail left his lips. All he could do was sit there in the snow and hold Joshua close, hoping, wishing desperately for none of it to be real.

But deep, deep down he knew it was. Deep, deep down, he knew Joshua was gone. Joshua. His Shua. His sweet, kind, loving Shua, who was willing to give up everything, even his own life, for their happiness, was-

Joshua was gone. And it was Jeonghan’s fault. Deep, deep down, he knew that.

But he pushed those thoughts away, locked them up so he didn’t have to think about them. He continued to mumble shaky, broken pleas to ears that wouldn’t hear him, to an impassive sky, to the empty, cold air. He didn’t hear the voices behind him, didn’t feel the hands on his shoulders trying to pull him away. All he could think about was his Shua. If he wished hard enough none of it would be real. Soon, he was going to wake up and it would all just be a bad dream.

He pet Joshua’s hair back automatically, rocking him back and forth a little. He was quivering so hard it shook both of them, but he didn’t care. When he saw his tears drip down against Joshua’s cheeks he didn’t care about that either. He just wanted Joshua to wake up and tell him it was all ok. He wanted to hear Joshua tell him he loved him.

He would say it back. And he did. He should have done it long ago. Whispered confessions, soft little things, words that got swept away by the wind, left his lips. A repeated chorus of “I love you, I love you, please wake up, please, I love you, don’t go, don’t leave me, I love you,” mumbled endlessly in the vain hope that maybe Joshua would hear him if he said it enough times.

“-nghan! Hannie! _Jeonghan!_ ” A voice yelling finally broke him out of his thoughts, and slowly, he looked up, into Seungcheol’s eyes. He was crying too, tears dripping down his face, and there was a helpless sort of emotion in his eyes that made Jeonghan cry harder, but he didn’t look away. Seungcheol didn’t either, crouching down next to him, a shaky hand reaching out to land on his cheek.

“J-Joshua,” was all he could choke out, hugging the younger even closer, and Seungcheol shushed him gently, trying to wipe his tears away even as his own fell steadily.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart, I know, I- I know. Keep looking at me, ok? Focus on me, baby, ok? C-come here,” he cooed, trying to soothe him even though his own voice shook and his words were mere whispers. Heart hurting as though someone had torn it out of his chest, Jeonghan leaned into the hug Seungcheol pulled him into, but he didn’t let go of his hold around Joshua’s shoulders, and the older didn’t tug him away. 

Jeonghan sobbed openly against his skin, sniffling and gasping and trying hard to drag air into his lungs. He felt like he was drowning. Without his Shua to ground him he felt lost. Even with Seungcheol’s broad hands on his back and carding through his hair, he felt like he was drifting aimlessly through a sea of despair, a soul with no more purpose, a boat without an anchor.

Dimly he heard the others, all of them crying too, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at them. All he could do was weep and sob in agony, a part of him torn away forever. The painful lump in his throat was making it hard to breathe, but still he cried. The tears wouldn’t stop and he didn’t try to stem them. He couldn’t. He knew if he tried it wouldn’t work. But it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Joshua was gone. His Shua was...gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep  
> tags are updated  
> next chapter is gonna be uploaded next thursday


	10. Day 8: Grieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASLKDHFIOWDKS I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST IM SORRY HERE
> 
> me, sitting in my chair, cackling as I read all your guys' comments about crying bc of the last chapter: lmao  
> me, who also cried while writing the last chapter:  
> me:
> 
> I mean 20/20 for JeongCheol hindsight ig--

Jeonghan didn’t know how he ended up in Seungcheol’s bed the next morning, behind held tightly in a warm embrace. He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember a lot of things. His memory was hazy and fuzzy and he half didn’t want to know why. His eyes stung and his chest hurt, and he didn’t even try to remember what had happened the day before. He simply tucked his face against Seungcheol’s chest and sighed shakily, clinging to the front of his shirt.

He felt a hand slowly run up and down his back, petting him calmingly, but it did little to assuage the intense feeling of loss burning fiercely in his heart.

“You awake?” Seungcheol whispered without opening his eyes. Jeonghan hummed a soft noise in response. The older boy sighed quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Seungcheol was warm. Warm and solid and real and very much _alive_. Jeonghan could feel the movement of his chest when he breathed and if he listened he could hear Seungcheol’s heartbeat, beating steady and low under his ear.

He started crying again. All Seungcheol did was sigh softly again and pull him closer, fighting back tears of his own. They didn’t get up for another few hours, despite neither of them feeling at all tired.

* * *

He felt heavy. Both heavy and very, very empty. As he sat there in Seungcheol’s bed he didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t really do anything. He barely looked up when his boyfriend walked into the room, holding two cups of coffee and looking blank.

He only moved when Seungcheol leaned down to kiss him, and silently he reached up, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s broad shoulders and pulling him close. It was a bit of an awkward affair but he didn’t care. He just wanted someone to hold him and put his broken pieces back together. But there would always be one big piece missing, a puzzle incomplete, lost to the arms of death disguised as a beautiful flower. It had always been the three of them against the world, and now there was just two.

He whimpered softly against Seungcheol’s lips, feeling his eyes sting again. Another choked noise left him, and he clung tighter, desperate for comfort.

“Shh, baby, I’m here,” Seungcheol whispered, sitting down next to him and pulling him into his lap. “I’m here.” He didn’t say that it was ok. He didn’t say to stop crying. He just offered his presence, because it was all he had to give. And to Jeonghan that was ok. At the moment, any grounding touch was gratefully accepted. So he melted into Seungcheol’s chest, sobbing his empty, heavy heart out for what felt like the millionth time. 

Seungcheol held him tight, rocking him back and forth, drawing in a shaky breath of his own. But he didn't cry. He tried very hard not to. It was difficult, but he managed to hold himself back. He contented himself with burying his face in Jeonghan’s blond hair and closing his eyes, wishing he could rewind time and make sure none of this had ever happened. But it had and now he was watching everything he’d ever known crash and burn. He felt shaken, thrown off-balance, his feet knocked out from under him.

So he clung that much tighter to Jeonghan and held his breath. It didn’t stop a couple tears from escaping anyway. The two cups of coffee sat abandoned on the dresser, the steam rising and dissipating into the air.

* * *

The others all wandered over eventually. They shoved themselves into Seungcheol’s small living room, not caring how crowded it was. The closer they were together, the better. It just meant they could give comfort more easily.

Chan was trying so hard to be strong and if Seungcheol wasn’t so...empty, he would have been proud. But instead he just felt kind of sad, because he could see the younger cracking. He was trying so hard but Seungcheol knew he was hurting just as bad as everyone else, so he pulled Chan close to his chest and kissed his forehead before hugging him tightly, murmuring quiet words of comfort. Chan didn’t protest.

Hansol was...odd. Subdued and flat-looking, he said nothing, angular face blank and unresponsive. He didn’t speak when people talked to him and his eyes were glazed over with some kind of mist, still in shock. Jeonghan held his hand tightly and Hansol finally broke, sniffling faintly into his shoulder. He almost never cried, but they supposed it was appropriate. Jeonghan cried too.

Seungkwan, as expected, was sobbing, eyes red and continuously dripping tears. He couldn’t speak, throat too choked up. All he could do was cling tightly to Hansol’s other hand as though afraid he might slip away if he let go. Seungcheol didn’t say anything, but hugged Seungkwan anyway, petting his hair. The younger sunk into his chest, shaking and trembling, trying vainly to stop his tears. Seungcheol wiped them away carefully.

Minghao lasted for all of five minutes before he too couldn’t hold it back anymore and let his tears fall. Jun pulled the younger into his lap and Minghao sat there, crying silently, completely still, tears dripping onto his hands. His face was covered with a sort of stunned horror, and Seungcheol crouched down beside him, taking one of his hands and petting his knee. Minghao didn’t look at him, but hummed weakly from the back of his throat.

Mingyu whispered apologies into the air, endless words with no real strength or conviction behind them. Jeonghan pet his hair and soothed him the best he could, letting the younger cry quietly into his shoulder though he was shorter. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize,” he murmured. Mingyu didn’t seem to believe him, but he clung to Jeonghan like a drowning man anyway.

Seokmin was a mess of tears and sniffles, of too-long limbs shoved into a corner and barely coherent sentences mumbled to anyone who would listen. He couldn’t seem to stop talking, but the others were fine with that, because they knew Seokmin talked a lot when he was sad. And while “sad” was a bit of an understatement, they didn’t care. Seungcheol just nodded and listened, because what else could he do?

Jihoon was crying too, but they were almost angry tears. “I knew,” he kept saying, over and over again, “I knew and I didn’t say anything.” Angry tears, but only at himself. Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol just held him tightly, petting his hair until the small boy dissolved into proper sobs. They didn’t blame him. They only blamed themselves, for not seeing what Jihoon saw in time.

Wonwoo was silent. Dead silent, tears dripping slowly down his cheeks. Like Hansol, he almost never cried, so it almost hurt worse to see the glistening droplets slide down his face. Several times, he opened his mouth to speak, but he never did. He simply sat in silence and stared unseeingly at the floor. Seungcheol hugged him tightly, and he felt a pair of hands slowly rise to clutch at the hem of his shirt.

Soonyoung was curled up into himself, sitting on the floor, completely broken down. His sobs echoed the loudest, full of pain and despair. It almost physically hurt them to listen, but Jeonghan braved through them and knelt to cradle him, face in the younger’s hair, arms around his shaking shoulders. Soonyoung leaned heavily against him, tears non-stop.

Jun, who still had Minghao in his lap, cried quietly. Just little sniffles and whines, badly-suppressed whimpers here and there. He clung tightly to his boyfriend, arms around his waist, forehead against his shoulder. Seungcheol sat next to him and Jun blinked at him, mouth opening and closing, probably trying to say something but unable to. Seungcheol just shushed him gently and pet his hair. Jun said nothing.

They spent the last day of the year holding each other, arms wrapped tight around shoulders and hands clasped together. The room was filled with the sounds of their grief: raw, painful sobs, shaky breaths, and the occasional despairing wail. For a long time, they just sat and cried, missing terribly the one person who wasn’t there anymore. There was an empty space, a cold, blank spot, reserved for someone who would never again grace them with his presence. All of them had lost something very, very precious, and now it tore them apart.

And when they couldn’t cry anymore, when the room fell silent except for their shallow breathing and intermittent sniffles, none of them spoke and none of them moved. They didn’t really know what to do. Shock had stunned them all into silence. So they simply sat there, trying to draw comfort from each other. It worked a little, but they still felt the loss like a physical presence, weighing on them like the world was resting on their shoulders.

It hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap is gonna be uploaded on Saturday yee also damn i think last chapter had the most comments I've ever gotton on a story ever so thank you all so much I love you and I assure you I read each and every comment they make me go :D I really do appreciate y'all so much I can't believe there's only one more chapter after this
> 
> AND FLUFF IS COMING AFTER THIS I PROMISE


	11. One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried while writing this too!!
> 
> ALSO HAPPY (slightly late) BIRTHDAY WONU UR A BABY AND I LOVE YOU YOU'RE SO GODDAMN PRECIOUS SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE HIM A KITTEN AT ALL TIMES AND LET HIM HAVE HIS SWEATER PAWS I JUST LOVE HIM OK

One year later, and not much had changed. Chan said very little and rarely smiled. Hansol and Seungkwan were nearly inseparable, as if scared to lose each other; Minghao and Jun were the same way, terrified that if they looked away the other would disappear. Mingyu looked lost all the time, like he wasn’t quite sure where he was going anymore, and he was always trailing after Wonwoo. Seokmin’s laughter was less frequent and more forced. Jihoon stayed angry. First at himself, then at Joshua for leaving them, then at Jeonghan and Seungcheol, then he just sort of gave up and fell silent. Wonwoo was stoic and unfeeling, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him again. Soonyoung was oddly serious, and he’d finally confessed properly to Jihoon. Jihoon accepted instantly.

They rarely spoke of Joshua, and when they did conversations were cut short. Sometimes he came up on accident when they momentarily forgot what had happened to him. Sometimes they looked up, his name on their lips, about to ask him a question, then they _remembered_ and the look that would cover their face spoke volumes about how they felt. He was there all the time and not there at all, a lingering wisp in their minds and their memories that haunted them forever.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol never forgave themselves. Though Joshua’s love for them prevented them from also getting flowers in their lungs, they still felt like they couldn’t breathe anyway. At that point, to them, dying would be easier, and they would get to see Joshua sooner. But they didn’t. They had to keep their promise, to him and to each other. Still, the simple fact that Joshua was dead and gone never really sunk all the way in. Joshua had chosen love over living, and now, to exist without him was a fate worse than death. 

They never forgave themselves, and their guilt and regret would stay with them forever, an invisible, searing brand on their bodies showing how blind they had been, to not see how desperately Joshua had needed them when he was suffering. 

It always hurt, and it never stopped hurting.

* * *

The difference of one year didn’t really matter to Jeonghan. He felt like he didn’t perceive time correctly anymore; without Joshua, the days sort of blurred together. But every single day, he felt the distinct lack of his best friend like a stab wound from a blunt knife. Every single day, he was reminded of his mistake, of his blindness, of his failure to look just a little closer.

But he felt like he saw Joshua everywhere. He could hear Joshua’s laugh in the gentle sounds of a windchime, in the rustle of a breeze through tall grass. Sometimes he thought he heard Joshua’s voice in the wind, as unreachable as air. He could see Joshua’s eyes in the depths of his coffee, both the exact same shade of honey brown. He could feel Joshua’s presence whenever he stood still for too long, a friendly ghost leaning over his shoulder.

Sometimes he _saw_ Joshua, literally. He’d walk into his living room and Joshua would be sitting there reading, looking up at his approach and giving him a small, loving little smile. The first time it happened, Jeonghan could only stare, but when he’d rushed forward to hug him, Joshua had dissolved into nothingness in his arms. 

Now, it just...hurt. Especially in the early morning, when he’d get up to make himself coffee after a sleepless night and Joshua would be leaning against the counter, steaming mug in hand even though the machine was empty and unplugged.

“...I miss you,” Jeonghan would say. Joshua would smile and walk towards him.

“ _‘S not your fault, Han,_ ” he’d hum, so gentle and kind. 

“But it is,” Jeonghan would argue, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Joshua would laugh, the sound bright and beautiful and _gone_ from Jeonghan’s world.

“ _I miss you too,_ ” Joshua would chuckle in his pretty, pretty voice, “ _Lucky I only live like 10 minutes away. I can come visit you whenever I want!_ ” The normalcy of it was the hardest part to Jeonghan.

“No. No you can’t. Not anymore,” Jeonghan would force out every morning, the words like gravel tearing up his throat. It was usually then that he stared to cry. Joshua’s smile would fall into something kind and so, so affectionate, and he’d raise a hand to wipe away Jeonghan’s tears, though his ghostly fingers never made contact with Jeonghan’s warm, living skin.

“ _I love you. Don’t beat yourself up, alright?_ ” he’d murmur, and Jeonghan would nod, eyes closed, lying to himself. He would never forgive himself.

And when he opened his eyes, Joshua would be gone, leaving him alone in the kitchen to cry until he couldn’t anymore. He saw Joshua too much.

And especially in those flowers. Those _damned_ flowers. They mocked him, reminding him of the ones that had grown in his Shua's lungs and choked up his throat until every time he opened his mouth they spilled from his lips in cascading waves of beautiful misery. He couldn’t bear to look at a rose anymore. The color was too close to the blood Joshua had willingly spilled for him.

And the nightmares- god the nightmares he would have. Over and over, every night, he was plagued by the most realistically horrifying dreams. Every night, he witnessed Joshua being torn away from him again and he could do nothing about it. Every night the pain in his heart was doubled. 

The worst ones were when he thought he might have simply woken up, because he was still in his bed and everything was still dark. But once he sat up a little, he could see the slender figure of Joshua over him on his hands and knees, completely naked, pale skin gleaming a little in the moonlight filtering through his window. His eyes would be clouded with a hazy, lovesick fog, looking almost drunk. Jeonghan could never react, too stunned to do anything other than stare. It was then that he always realized how pretty Joshua was and always had been.

And then Joshua would speak. In his honey-sweet voice, as pleasant and gentle as it always was, he would whisper one sentence:

“ _Why didn’t you love me?_ ” He would say that one line, and then petals would fall from his lips, as cursed as they were beautiful. Blood would drip from his mouth and nose and eyes, staining the sheets below him. It was horrifically grotesque, a beautiful piece of sinful art, something straight from the pits of hell. 

He always woke himself up with his own screams. He always woke up crying, a confession on his lips, trying to say that he _did_ love Joshua. But he hadn’t loved him enough, hadn’t loved him in time, and now he was paying the price. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in many months, too haunted by the sight of a wingless angel over him, colorful petals floating from his lips, as peaceful and innocent as anything apart from the blood staining them. Afterwards he would curl up and cry until he couldn’t anymore, until his eyes burned and his throat felt raw. 

He’d taken to sleeping at Seungcheol’s house, desperate for any form of comfort. And when he jolted awake, a cry of Joshua’s name on the tip of his tongue, Seungcheol would roll over sleepily, sit up, and pull him close, words slurred from tiredness but as soothing as he could make them. Jeonghan usually never fell asleep after the nightmares for a day or two, until he physically couldn’t stay awake anymore. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t want to be faced with another reminder that Joshua was gone. It hurt too much, the pain of loss still too raw. The nightmares were just rubbing salt in the wound.

But he couldn’t forget them. “Why didn’t you love me?” Over and over, he heard those words in his head, and he never stopped thinking about them. Why? Why had he not noticed sooner? It was his fault, all his fault that his beloved Shua was gone. Why couldn't he have loved him a little harder, cherished him a little more, held him just a tiny bit closer? He thought that maybe, maybe if he had done a little more, none of that would have happened. Foolish fantasies, “what if’s” and “maybe’s” filled his head and left him dazed and unresponsive, until all his friends were worried for him.

He wished and hoped and prayed to any god he could think of, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. His Shua was gone, and nothing he could do could ever change that. He saw Joshua everywhere, but he was untouchable. He thought he might have been going crazy.

He just missed his Shua so, so much.

* * *

Seungcheol, too, felt sort of unaware, separated from everyone else, like he was seeing the world through a weird pair of glasses, on the outside looking in. He could never seem to bring the right words to his lips, so he stayed quiet, stayed still, lost in his own world. A world without Joshua.

It was strange to be without him. His best friend. He always had someone on either side of him. He had two hands, and they would always be occupied with an arm or a waist or another hand or two, but now half of him felt empty, off-balance. He still had Jeonghan, and for that he was _infinitely_ grateful, but...but there was something still missing. His other hand had nothing left to grab onto, flailing to find purchase to keep himself from falling. But he never found anything to hold. Not anymore.

He didn’t show it. He tried very hard not to. Around Jeonghan, around his friends, he was stoic and silent, letting them cry into his shoulders because they needed him to be the strong one. And he would hold them and whisper empty words of comfort into their ears, anything to get them to stop sniffling and feel even a little bit better.

But when he was alone, when he was sure no one would see or hear him, he broke down completely and utterly and _sobbed_ , filling his room with his own heartbreaking cries, body racked with shudders, physical proof of the guilt and regret that haunted him day and night. How? How could he have been so blind? How could he have let this happen?

“I could have loved him,” he whispered to himself at night, over and over into his pillow. And he knew he was being truthful. He loved Jeonghan but he could have loved Joshua too. He did. Loved the way he laughed, loved the way he smiled, loved the way the younger fit so perfectly against his (only slightly) taller frame. He could have loved them both.

Sometimes it hurt more to think of Jeonghan, think of how he was suffering. He knew the two had been closer than him, and whenever Jeonghan woke up crying in his arms, he knew his boyfriend was plagued with endless nightmares of their best friend’s death, unable to find a peaceful wink of sleep.

But by contrast, he couldn’t find Joshua anywhere. Not in the cafes Joshua liked to frequent, not in the library he liked to go to, not even in the photos they had taken together. He was constantly looking up, lips already half-parted to say something to the younger, and then he would crumble and fall silent because he would realize that _Joshua wasn’t there anymore_. 

He would take long walks by himself, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat (the coat Joshua had worn), searching and searching. By rivers, through the city, across bridges, anywhere his feet took him, anywhere he thought Joshua might be. But he never found anything, because Joshua was never there.

He looked everywhere for Joshua. Sometimes, for the first few weeks, he would dial Joshua’s number just to hear his voicemail, just to hear him speak one last time. Then, when it ended, he’d call again. And again, and again, and again. 

“ _Sorry, I can’t answer right now, but I promise that I’ll be back soon! Leave a message if it’s important,_ ” Joshua would say in his cheerful, lovely voice, a voice that Seungcheol was so goddamn desperate to hear again. It was just a short, cute little voicemail, so...so _Joshua_ , that it hurt. It was like slapping himself in the face every time he listened to it but for the life of him he couldn’t stop playing it over and over. He scrounged through his phone and his laptop for videos and audio clips of Joshua, looking for bits and pieces of his laugh, his smile, his eyes, just... _him_. 

His favorite, and the one that made him cry the hardest, was an old one on his phone of just him, Jeonghan, and Joshua, where they’d all gotten a little tipsy and pleasantly buzzed with alcohol they'd stolen from Jeonghan's parents. The first part a bit sudden and the whole thing was shaky, but all Seungcheol cared about was seeing Joshua, trying to look for him through the screen.

“ _Cheolie? What are you doing?_ ” Joshua would giggle, words slightly slurred. The screen showed him and Jeonghan, Seungcheol’s wobbly hands holding his phone.

“ _Recording my two favorite pretty boys,_ ” Seungcheol’s own voice would slur, and the smile that covered their faces made Seungcheol’s heart ache and ache, tears pushing at his eyes. But he never stopped watching.

“ _We are pretty, aren’t we?_ ” Jeonghan would drawl, always so confident when drunk, petting Joshua’s hair like a cat. “ _'_ _Specially Shua. He has cute eyes. Like a lil kitty cat._ ” It took Seungcheol way too long to notice that, even when drunk, Joshua blushed at the compliment and the touches, face red but not just from the alcohol. Fuck, Joshua had been in love with them for so long and they’d never noticed.

He could never bring himself to finish watching, but he downloaded the video onto a thumb drive and wore it around his neck, almost as penance for his sins or something. Even though it felt heavy, like it was physically weighing him down, he wore it, just to feel a tiny bit closer to Joshua, just as a last resort to find the cat-eyed boy in a world where he’d disappeared. 

He couldn’t find Joshua even in his dreams. Not even his nightmares. He would open his eyes to a black, endless void, nothing there except him and the accusing whispers of his thoughts.

“ _Why didn’t you do something sooner?”_

“ _Why didn’t you notice earlier?”_

“ _This is all your fault.”_

And he knew that. He knew that, at least in part, it was his fault. For not seeing things earlier. And he would stand in that void and shake as the voices got louder and harsher, yelling at him for allowing Joshua to suffer. For allowing him to die.

But Jeonghan needed him, so when he heard his boyfriend’s faint cries in the middle of the night, it would jolt him awake and break him from the trap of his own nightmares. He was almost thankful, but at the same time he was sad. Sad for Jeonghan, who cried so hard into his chest every night he was surprised the blond had any tears left to shed. But he would sit and hold him close as long as Jeonghan needed him to, wipe away his tears and whisper soothing words, no matter how forced or empty they were, until both of them stopped shaking so hard, until both of them were calmed down enough to exchange a soft, comforting kiss and breathe a little easier.

Seungcheol thought sometimes that maybe if he kept looking he could find Joshua. He knew somewhere in his heart that that wasn’t true, that Joshua was lost to him forever, but he never really stopped searching. Wherever he went, he always kept an eye out for a familiar head of light brown hair. Just in case, he told himself. Just in case.

* * *

Their friends were worried for them. Especially since today marked one year. One year since they’d found out. One year since Joshua died. How cruelly ironic it felt, that the date was on Joshua’s birthday.

“You sure you’ll be alright? Do you want us to go with you?” Jun’s words were quiet as he spoke, voice full of uncertainty and sympathy. Jeonghan hummed, shaking his head as he pulled on his coat.

“We’ll be fine. Thank you though. We just...wanna have some time to ourselves,” he mumbled, voice a little hoarse. He hadn’t spoken much over the past year, and it showed. His breathy, usually playful voice was now softer, slightly rougher, more somber. 

“We understand.” Hansol nodded to him, eyes not meeting his, instead fixed on his and Seungkwan’s clasped hands. Jeonghan hummed again, taking Seungcheol’s hand as he walked up. Under his boyfriend’s arm was a long, thin box, and in his own hands was a smaller, more squarish one.

“We’ll be back.” Jeonghan managed to give them a weak smile. The first in a while, faintly there but a smile nonetheless. They smiled back at him, a little sad, a little hopeful, a little worried.

As they walked, hand in hand, they didn’t say anything. They didn’t really need to. What was there to say that they hadn’t said before? Through lots of tears, feelings had been laid out and they both agreed that, if they were ever given the chance, if, by some miracle, they were reincarnated, they would look for Joshua. They promised to look for him. They promised to love him if they were ever once again blessed with the sight of his face.

But that prospect was still a long ways away. For now, all they could do was endure the rest of their lives without him. It was hard, harder than anything either of them had ever done, but they managed to wake up everyday and continue to live, even if they weren't really living. Joshua had taken a big part of them both with him, leaving husks in their places that walked and talked but didn’t really feel a whole lot.

“...It’s snowing,” Seungcheol murmured softly after a while, head tilted up at the sky. Jeonghan followed his gaze. Indeed, fat flakes of snow were beginning to fall. As usual, the snow reminded Jeonghan of Joshua, painfully so. He saw too much. As usual, Seungcheol scanned the sky for a hint of the younger, always searching. He found nothing.

They both held each other’s hand a little tighter.

Stepping into the quaint cemetery was always hard, no matter how many times they visited, but this time, it was harder than usual. The air felt thicker, colder, harder to breathe in and out.

It took them no time at all to find that one familiar gravestone. Their feet automatically took them there, to stand before a rectangular stone of pinkish marble, a faint dusting of snow covering it. Seungcheol instinctively reached down to brush the snow away.

To Jeonghan, it was the one place where he could feel somewhat at peace, spared from seeing Joshua everywhere. To Seungcheol, it was the one place where he _could_ find Joshua. It was sad for both of them, but also almost relieving, in a way. Cathartic.

Of course, it still hurt. Whenever they saw the stone, saw his name carved into the peach-colored rock, saw the physical proof of his death, it hurt like someone had shot them several times. It hurt like their hearts had been crushed to dust. It hurt like someone had taken Joshua away from them all over again. But they never stopped visiting. Something always drew them back.

“H-hey, Shua, we’re back,” Jeonghan started, words mere whispers that were stolen away from his lips by the wind. His voice shook, but not from the cold. “It’s snowing, just- just like last year. It always seems to snow on your b-birthday. ‘S kinda nice. Jihoon ‘n Soonyoung had their 10-month anniversary a c-couple days ago. They’re real lovey-dovey with each other. ‘S cute. I wish y-you could see them. You could- you could tease them with us.” As he spoke, tears rose and spilled from his eyes, hitting the stone below him with wet splatters and melting through the snow.

“Chan and Hansol just finished some of their big tests. They did really good. They were so happy. It was- it was really nice to see them happy again,” Seungcheol murmured, staring down at the gravestone as though if he looked hard enough he would be able to see Joshua lying there. Tears spilled from his eyes too, cooling quickly against his cheeks. The thumb drive around his neck seemed to both weigh a million pounds and not weigh anything at all.

“We- we kept your promise, Shua. We still love each other. We love you too,” Jeonghan whispered, barely able to speak. “We- we miss you so, so much. I wish- I wish we could see you again.” Seungcheol pulled him close, one arm around his waist. Wilting flowers and soggy farewell cards littered the grave and he wanted to brush them aside. 

“The others say hello. Your mom does too. Sometimes she calls us. She misses you a lot, did you know? You probably do. I just- we- _fuck_ , I miss you so much…” Seungcheol’s choked-up voice faltered and broke and he looked up at the sky, closing his eyes, trying hard not to break down further. It was always difficult, no matter how many times he walked up to the grave, to stay in control. Jeonghan leaned against him, a warm, comforting weight. Seungcheol dragged in an unsteady breath and held it, fighting back the painful lump growing in his throat before looking back down again.

“H-happy birthday, Shua. I realize now that this is kind of...dumb, but I- I thought you might like it.” He took the long, thin box out from under his arm, opening it with shaking hands and pulling out the silver lily he’d made a year ago. Fingers trembling so badly he was worried he’d drop the flower, he placed it carefully on the pink marble, where it sat pretty and bright against the snow. “It- lilies symbolize humility ‘n devotion. I thought it suited you. They’re also commonly used in funeral processions. Kinda ironic, innit?” Despite his feeble attempt at trying to be humorous, his voice was shaky and flat. “Happy birthday,” he whispered again, standing back up, the thumb drive solid and warm against his chest inside his shirt. Jeonghan stepped forward, kneeling carefully so he was almost sitting down.

“I thought- I thought we could be matching, since you like wearing earrings so much, but… Just- just...here. I promise I’ll- I’ll keep the ring on my finger.” He set the earring box next to the lily, silver satin gleaming dully. On his right hand, the ring with its pale blue gem seemed to tingle, as if sensing it was being separated from its rose-colored partners. “Happy birthday. We love you,” he breathed, watching his words fog up and dissipate into the cold December air. A couple of his tears landed on the lily, the droplets sparkling like diamonds on the silver.

Jeonghan leaned heavily onto Seungcheol’s side once he stood back up, and the pair simply turned and held each other tightly, sniffles quieted by the falling snow. All alone in the cemetery, it was just them, the gravestone, and the ghost of a love, lingering in the air and in their thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming so far with me! This has been a ride to write, three months of pure angst with lots of tears and lots of stifled laughter, but I'm so glad so many of you seem to love this story as much as I do, because I certainly enjoyed writing this a lot more than I probably should have. Your guys' support always amazes me and it makes my heart go :DDD so thank you thank you thank you so, so much for your overwhelming love. It really, really helps motivate me, more than you know, and it makes me want to continue putting out my best works for you guys to enjoy! I promise that I'll upload a fluffy JiHanCheol fic after this, but I've always wanted to upload a chat fic or something similar...so look forward to those in the future! Sea Legs is still going strong, for those of you who need something else to read that's updating consistently (yes a shameless plug don't @ me), but again, thank you all for your kudos and comments! I read each and every one of them, and they always make my day. Thank you. It's been a fun ride.
> 
> also I love Jeon Wonwoo
> 
> and I was going to just end this here, but,,,,,,i might make a happily ever after if the people demand it,,,,?


	12. ALTERNATE ENDING: One Lifetime Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.”
> 
> \- Seventy Years Of Sleep #4, cardiamachina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all asked for this and I give the people what they want so  
> here !! this made me smile big like :D

“-han! Jeonghan! Oi! Wake up!” Jeonghan jolted awake, heart skipping several beats like he had missed a step going down the stairs. His eyes were wide and filled with tears for some reason, and he raised a shaky hand up to his face, feeling a slight wetness there. 

“Damn it, not again,” he muttered to himself, hurriedly drying his tears. Around December it always happened; he would feel drowned by a strong sense of loss and sadness, an empty feeling growing in his heart, and he would doze off a lot more often. His weird fever dreams, as he assumed they were, were always filled with the scents of rose and thyme and flashed with split-second images of a brown-haired boy with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. But thinking about his face and trying to remember it never worked and always made him sadder than before.

Sometimes he had nightmares about it too. Fleeting images of bloody petals and a snow-covered grave. Of sobbing his heart out late at night for some unknown reason. Of a powerful, intense rush of guilt and regret that came from nowhere. Sometimes he had nightmares about a boy, kneeling over him in his bed, eyes heavy-lidded and drunk-looking. He always said one line, but Jeonghan could never remember it, and he could never remember the boy’s face either.

And that was just the beginning of his weird winter issues.

There were a lot of strange things. Like when flowers were involved, for example. He couldn’t bear to look at roses (they made him strangely angry), and lilies made him indescribably sad. The scent of thyme made him terribly nauseous so avoided most other flora because of that. 

There was also the snow. The snow made him feel a lot of things. Mostly a kind of lingering regret, a guilt that he didn’t know the reason for. Whenever it got cold enough to snow, he also felt cold inside. He felt like he had lost something to the snow, a very, very long time ago.

“Ah, getting the holiday blues again?” Jeonghan glared half-heartedly up at his friend Seungkwan, pouting a little.

“It’s not the ‘holiday blues’, it just...happens,” he said defensively, folding his arms. Seungkwan rolled his eyes with a smirk, perching on the edge of his desk and waving a hand.

“Sure. I’m pretty sure no one else I know cries every December for seemingly no reason. It’s like someone died this month.”

Jeonghan knew he was joking. But the words struck a chord in him, a painful memory-long forgotten. He fell silent, trying to cling to the image that had sprung into his mind of a snow-covered balcony, but it was like trying to hold smoke between his fingers and it slipped away as it always did, leaving him frustrated and full of longing.

“...Jeonghan? You good?” Seungkwan’s voice broke him out of his thoughts again and he looked back up into the younger boy’s slightly concerned face.

“I’m- yeah, I’m fine. Just...thought I remembered something.” Seungkwan gave him another concerned look, but shrugged.

“Well cheer up, the year’s almost over! New year’s is tomorrow! It’s the 30th today, right?”

The 30th of December. That date was important. He felt it in his bones, in the very essence of his being. He just didn’t know _why_. It tugged at mind, insisting it was significant, but for the life of him he didn’t know what it was. Seungkwan gave him a weird look at his sudden silence.

“...Well if you’re gonna continue to be cryptic and weird, I’m gonna get Seungcheol and tell him to kiss you out of whatever strange, depressed funk you get yourself into every winter,” Seungkwan huffed, striding off, leaving Jeonghan to dwell over what was so important about the 30th of December. He thought it might have something to do with the dreams he kept having, and why he was so sad around that time every year.

There was something. There was always something, lurking in the back of his mind, something he could never _quite_ place but sensed was there. It both infuriated him and intrigued him.

He didn’t know why but he felt like that day, something was going to happen.

* * *

But to his dismay, the day was as cold and dreary as it always was, nothing interesting happening except for Soonyoung shooting milk out of his nose during lunch from laughing too hard. In fact, his senior year of high school had never felt so _boring_ before.

Thankfully, Seungcheol was there to cheer him up a little. 

Seungcheol was the same as him; he got the weird feelings every December of baseless longing and regret, of guilt and heartbreaking sadness. It was part of what drew them together. A part of Jeonghan always felt like he had known Seungcheol from another lifetime; that was how well they got along. And in their very, very infrequent fights, something always possessed them to apologize and sort things out, an unspoken promise. Jeonghan felt connected to Seungcheol in a way that was bigger than both of them. It helped a little, whenever he found himself crying late at night and needed someone to talk to.

“‘S ok,” Seungcheol murmured soothingly to him as they rode the train back home. He nudged the younger boy’s arm gently, getting Jeonghan to look at him. “We can watch a movie at my house, if you want?”

“...That’d be nice. Thanks, Cheolie.” He looked away and leaned against the older, closing his eyes. Half of him still felt empty, a blank space that could only be filled with one very particular...thing. He didn’t know what it was but it was missing. The glaring emptiness always felt the strongest at the end of the year.

But when they stepped off the train and started the short trek to their houses, following the tracks as always, the empty feeling grew into a sense of slight anticipation. As snow started to fall, white puffs of ice drifting around them, the feeling increased. The snow was important too. Both of them knew it. It had been snowing in their memories, on a balcony in a city they didn’t recognize. 

A memory flashed behind their eyes, of snow drifting down gently to rest in the light brown hair of a deathly-still figure. All of a sudden, a wave of pure despair and loss washed over them, leaving both of them reeling and confused. But it also brought with it a sort of tense anticipation, a “wait-for-it” moment about to happen.

It made Jeonghan stand a little straighter, eyes more alert. Seungcheol was already looking around, brow slightly furrowed. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, but the feeling remained and pressed on their hearts and minds until they grew antsy in their own restlessness. Something was going to happen. _Something was going to happen_. They knew it.

But nothing was that out of the ordinary. The only thing of note was a boy walking several meters ahead of them, all bundled up in what looked to be two coats and a thick, pale pink scarf, light brown hair dusted with snow.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s eyes widened, and again, the memory of crying on a balcony, of a terrible, terrible inner agony, of pleading for someone to wake up, crashed into their minds, a little clearer than before. What had happened on that balcony? What had happened so that their memories were all twisted up, mixed with another time? 

They pushed the thought aside in favor of staring at the boy. Everything in their beings screamed “ _it’s him, it’s him, he’s the one_.” Their hesitance held them back a little, but as the boy turned to the side to look out at the open fields around him, they caught sight of his face.

He was _painfully_ familiar. Gracefully curved, cat-like eyes that were the prettiest shade of honey brown. Plump, full lips, set into a relaxed line. A cute button nose and soft cheeks, tinted pink from exposure. They knew that face. They knew those eyes.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol saw him, and a whole lifetime flashed before their wide eyes. The three of them, slightly older but still in school, laughing together. A flash of bloody petals. A split-second image of the boy’s face, eyes closed and expression peaceful. A brief wink of a peach-colored gravestone, a silver lily and a small box set onto it.

Jeonghan drew in a shuddering breath. His heart both hurt and felt incredibly light. Something was drawing him to that boy, and he obeyed the pull. Seungcheol did the same. He barely noticed that he was running, stumbling through the snow as fast as he could, hands reaching out, desperate to lay hold of the boy who had plagued his mind since he was born.

Unbidden, from the deepest depths of his memory, from a place he didn’t even know existed, a name rose to his lips, and in a voice filled with love and hope, he cried it out.

“ _Joshua!_ ”

The boy in front of them froze. And slowly, he turned, eyes as wide as theirs, filled with recognition and surprise and slight disbelief. Jeonghan and Seungcheol felt their lives slow down, as if time was a thick fluid, and very suddenly the entire world was reduced to just the three of them.

“...Jeonghan? Seungcheol?” Jeonghan nearly cried as he heard his name come off of Joshua’s lips. With a frantic noise, almost a shriek, he bodily threw himself the last few feet and tackled Joshua to the ground, hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder. Seungcheol joined not a second later, and the three of them sunk into each other’s embraces, crying hard, unable to speak.

There was absolutely no name for the emotions they were experiencing. Jeonghan didn’t try to figure them out. All he cared about was that he had Joshua back in his arms. After so long, after waiting an entire lifetime, he had his Shua back. His Shua, his sweet, beloved Shua. Half of his mind was filled with memories from another time, and the other half was focused on the fabric balled in his fists, physical proof of his hold on reality. On Joshua. A hold he would never relinquish.

“Shua, Joshua, baby, Shua,” he mumbled over and over again, voice strained and high and shaking but there. “I love you, I love you, I’m so glad I have you again. I love you so much,” he breathed into Joshua’s very solid, very alive chest. Seungcheol murmured the same words, and Joshua cried harder, pulling both of the older two closer.

“Yes, I love you too, I love you so much, thank you, thank you for finding me, I love you,” the youngest of the trio forced out, not at all caring that they were sitting in the snow by the train tracks, all of them tangled together in an incoherent mess of limbs and tears.

“Sweetheart, I missed you so much,” Seungcheol murmured, burying his face in Joshua’s snow-dusted hair. “I love you.” All he could do was hold the younger two tight, revel in their warm presences, bask in the way he finally had both of them in his arms again after so long.

And when their tears had calmed a little, when they weren’t so frantic anymore, Joshua pulled back slightly, panting and still crying but less desperately than before. As he looked between them, there was such a strong rush of fondness and relief in his eyes and Jeonghan and Seungcheol wanted nothing more than to hold him close forever, make up for all the time they spent being oblivious and blind.

But before they could do that, Joshua took their hands, gripping tightly even though his fingers shook a little, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, chest and lungs free from any of those damned flowers. With eyes full of love and happiness and tears, he pressed his and Jeonghan’s foreheads together, sniffling faintly.

“Do you really love me?” he asked softly, and Jeonghan was quick to nod, bundling Joshua even closer.

“We do. We really do. We should have loved you so much sooner, and I’m sorry you had to go so long without us,” he mumbled, and Seungcheol nodded agreement, kissing Joshua’s hair lightly, a slight tinge of amused regret in his eyes.

“Remind us to never get you flowers as gifts.”

That made Joshua laugh, watery but so achingly familiar, and Jeonghan felt more tears rise up and spill over as Joshua leaned into them, right where he was always meant to be. 

“Duly noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so my update schedule will go as follows:
> 
> on the 30th I will update Sea Legs  
> on the 3rd (of August) I will update Princess  
> on the 5th I will HOPEFULLY have the JiHanCheol redemption fic up and ready to update but if not it'll be on the 7th  
> then on the 10th Sea Legs again  
> then Leader on the 15th  
> and so on
> 
> Now that this fic is officially over, what would you guys like to see next? Would you want to see some totally new content that I have saved up, or would you rather I work more on the fics that I already have out? I have a ton of pre-written fics saved up that I could put out, including one-shots and multi-chaptered ones, but I've also always wanted to do a chat fic (either one with magic or a canon-compliant poly dorm situation with lots of crack and smut), but in the end it's up to you guys! I write what y'all want to read~~


	13. One Lifetime Later (Joshua's POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I know I said I would upload the JiHanChol redemption fic today but like  
> I'm not done yet so  
> Someone wanted to see the last chapter from Joshua's perspective, and I was like "damn that sounds cool!!" so I did it instead  
> Here u go  
> an extra treat from yours truly  
> enjoy my children~~  
> I'll hopefully (hopefully) have the JiHanCheol fic done by the 7th but no promises i suck at not procrastinating

Joshua never liked the cold. It felt too...invasive, getting into his bones, sapping his life away, and whenever it snowed he felt oddly tired, exhausted as though he was living his last day on earth, and bundling up in a bunch of layers never helped all that much.

Joshua didn't like flowers either. The mere sight of a rose made him nauseous and lilies made him want to cry, so he avoided them as much as possible, and the first time someone gave him a rose as a romantic gesture, Joshua burst into tears, successfully alarming that person into never talking to him again, which Joshua didn't really care about either way. He didn't really do relationships; he always felt like he was waiting for someone. Multiple someones, even.

But he had never met anyone who made the feeling go away, so he ignored it to the best of his abilities, even in the winter near the end of the year, when the feeling was strongest. It always made him weird around his birthday, tired but resigned, succumbing to the cold around him. He was so tired...

He jolted upright as the last school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and Joshua yawned, slinging his bag over his shoulder as his friend Hansol hurried up to him, handing him a small box, cheerful as always, even when Joshua was extra tired.

"Happy birthday, dude. This is from me and Kwan," he explained, and Joshua smiled gratefully at him. So thoughtful, that Hansol.

"Thanks, Sol, you know you didn't have-" He fell silent as he opened the box, revealing a small, pretty pair of blue earrings, and, unbidden, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, making his eyes widen slightly. He recognized these. Why? From where?

From when?

"...Joshua? You ok, dude?" Hansol asked quietly, poking his side, and Joshua forced a laugh, closing the box hurriedly and slipping it into his pocket to give Hansol a quick and awkward hug.

"'M fine. Thank you for the earrings; they're really pretty. Tell Kwannie thanks for me, won't you?" Hansol nodded, giving him one last quick hug before running off, and Joshua reached down to pull out the box again, frowning anxiously at it. Why did it feel so...heavy? Not just physically, in his palm, but in his soul. He knew he'd seen this box before, but...where? Why was there a coldness deep inside his bones, something clogging up his lungs? It was hard to breathe, and Joshua slipped the box back into his pocket with an anxious shake of his head, hurrying his steps so he wouldn't miss the train.

On the train ride back, he stared at the ground, the weight of the box like a stone in his pocket even though it was very light. It was his birthday and yet he was oddly apprehensive, glancing up every now and then as though something was going to happen. Why was he so tense? Every muscle in his body wanted to move but there was no reason for it but he couldn't stop his feet from tapping rapidly in his shoes, constantly brushing his hair out of his face even though he didn't need to.

But nothing happened, so with a heavy heart and a lingering feeling of foreboding, he stepped out onto the train platform and started the trek back home, following along the track as always. It was snowing lightly, and his chest felt tight, constricting around his lungs with every breath. He tried to ignore it, but the cold just made it harder to breathe. Why did he feel like he was forgetting something? There was something that was supposed to happen today, but he couldn't place what it was or why he was feeling this way, just that the sensation was there and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

 _Maybe it would go away,_ he thought morosely to himself, looking out to the side, at the snow-covered fields around him. It was familiar, but something was missing, and as the foreboding sensation in his chest increased, so did a feeling of incredible loneliness. He missed...someone. Two someones. Who? He couldn't remember. Why did he feel so tingly all over? Something was going to happen, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just snow, as far as he could see.

_"Joshua!"_

Joshua froze. He recognized that voice. In the deepest parts of his being he knew exactly who that was, and the feeling of loneliness that hung over him ever since he was born slowly faded as he dared to turn around, eyes wide, disbelief making his voice soft as he spoke.

"...Jeonghan? Seungcheol?" He couldn't have remembered where the names came from if someone asked, but all that mattered was that they were there. As Jeonghan tackled him into the snow, sobbing his eyes out and hugging him tightly, Seungcheol following close behind, Joshua just hugged them back, as tightly as he could. The empty feeling in his chest was gone, and he felt like he could finally, finally breathe again, chest free from any blockage. When he hugged Jeonghan, when he pressed his face into Seungcheol's chest, he could breathe again, no more flowers, no more blood, no more pain.

He could breathe again. He and Jeonghan and Seungcheol were together again after a lifetime, and he could breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok NOW this fic is well and truly over lmao  
> NOW GO LISTEN TO STAND OUT FIT IN BY ONE OK ROCK IT'S A /BOP/  
> and  
> perhaps  
> read Sea Legs?
> 
> ALSO  
> I HAVE A TWT NOW  
> GO CHECK ME OUT AND LET'S CHAT  
> [hi please talk to me i'm lonely](https://twitter.com/SandyRoses6)

**Author's Note:**

> so what do y'all think  
> don't worry, it's just going to get worse!  
> idk why I always make Joshua suffer I'm sorry I promise I love him


End file.
